James Potter and the Continuous Legacy Rebooted
by Luke Grant
Summary: A fully revamped version! James Potter eagerly sets off for his first year at Hogwarts, but there are dark and dangerous forces at work, and Hogwarts may not be able to escape the long reach of the Magical History Movement and their terrible new scheme!
1. Chapter 1: The Gathering Shadow

**As many of you know by now from my incessant whining about how much I hate it, the writing in James Potter and the Continuous Legacy as it was originally posted is far from the kind of standards to which I usually hold my work since it was written more than two years before it was actually uploaded. So I have decided to undertake the project of rewriting the first book to my current standards, and may do the same with Bloodline of Kings once this one is done. I will continue to update James Potter and the Alchemist's Curse at the same time though, so worry not the new stuff is still coming.**

**But even if you have read James Potter and the Continuous Legacy, you may want to stop by and take a glance. There are numerous subplots and intricacies that never got fully flushed out in the original version, so there is still plenty of new things to look for in this revision, even if the central plot is already known to you who have read it. And for those who have not, try not to spoil it by looking at the original, because you'll enjoy it so much more if you read this new version. It's really immeasurably better than the original.**

Chapter One: The Gathering Shadow

A thin layer of mist hung over the City of London as the sun set on a cool spring day, the pale rooftops poking through the shroud like a series of icebergs floating at the surface of a stormy sea. The city was swallowed up by it, engulfed in its expansive embrace as mothers bustled home from parks with bemused children and those on the streets walked with a renewed urgency. Sure, it was only a misty cloud, but no one liked to be outside on nights like these.

To a select few however, the odd weather was more than just a superstitious bother. To them, it was a message that their time had been revealed. And ominous invitation to the meeting that would at long last be taking place in a small home in its outer limits. For on this day, an evil pact would reveal itself to the world, and make known its grand yet twisted intentions for the world. This world that had been envisioned by countless before, men both great and terrible, and yet none had ever quite been able to realize it. However, on this day that was all going to change.

On this day, a rapidly emerging force in the Wizarding World was preparing to announce itself to the rest of the magical community, in order that their cause begin to make itself known to others outside of their small group. For without public attention and fear, they could never hope to achieve their goals. And how massive in scope and promise these goals were, if realized, their cause would change the face of the world entirely, and leave it facing a new era in the lives of Wizardkind!

Though the Second Wizarding War had long since ground to its horrific conclusion, this group insisted that the War's principals had not been understood by the magical community, who had blinded themselves to the truth of what had happened by the fear of change and their mindless loyalty to traitors such as Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore. This fear, along with the propaganda of the new regime, had brainwashed the people into believing the trumped up lies of the world's most treasonous slime, and turning their backs on the greatest wizard ever to live!

Three cloaked figured, wearing hoods and skirting along the alleyways of London as though they were mere shadows, approached the main gate with caution. There was simply no telling was going to happen, and the thought of what their leader might do to them if they were late filled them with more dread than did the thought of the long stay in Azkaban that awaited them if they were ever caught in his service. Though the Dementors had been removed from Azkaban long ago, the prison was still a place that struck fear into the hearts of even the most hardened of men.

As the passed through the main gate, their boots squishing on the wet cobblestones of the walkway to the front door, the man on the left turned to his two companions and whispered in a panicked voice "This had better be important, I'm probably going to get fired for this!" The man was very young, he had not been much more than a boy when the Second Wizarding War had ended at the Battle of Hogwarts, but he was as loyal to the cause as any of its oldest members.

A man on his left hissed at him to be silent, saying "You should be willing … proud even, to give up your job in his service! Remember the cause you're fighting for, nothing can be more important than the mission! When all is said and done, you know that you shall be rewarded for your loyalty!" the man was much older, and his beard was white with the permafrost of many winters, though his voice was as clear and forceful as a man of thirty.

"Maybe so." replied the young man, sounding quite indignant, "But how am I to survive whilst we wait for the liberation to come? Am I to survive solely on the words of The Master, great as he is and beautiful as the world he promises is?" it seemed as though this was something that had been nagging at the man for some time, but he was quickly silenced by the third figure, this one a woman.

"I wouldn't let those words be heard inside." The woman said, her voice rough and coarse as an unshaven prisoner as she immediately wrested for herself the attention of the two men next to her. "They may be construed the wrong way, and The Master does not take well to dissent.

The old man looked at her in interest, but the younger boy merely lowered his head in shame and muttered "Yes, you're right Madam Couture, I forgot myself." though it was clear that the question was still eating away at him. The man had a bright future outside of the organization, and he was loathe to risk it for a future that might yet be decades away.

The woman realized this however, as she continued in her screechy voice, "Be sure that you keep in mind that you are hardly the first to have these thoughts. Our glorious future is some ways off, so you must make some measures to ensure you're there to see it. Just make sure that your public life does not interfere with your duties to the organization." After a noticeable pause, she added "And be sure that you _never_ express any discontent before The Master!"

The boy opened his mouth to murmur his understanding, but immediately fell deathly silent as they reached the imposing doorway, which was made of the finest oak and towered at least six feet over the head of even the tallest of men. Raising his gloved fist, the man on the right knocked precisely five times before pausing, his fist still hovering less than an inch from the doorframe.

The courtyard before the door was quiet as a morgue as the trio waited for what seemed like an age before the man returned his attention to the door, knocking twice. After similar pauses of no more than two or three seconds, each of which felt like a lifetime in and of themselves, the man knocked an additional nine, and then lastly eight times.

To any outsider, this would have seemed like blatant insanity, or else some kind of bizarre OCD, yet nothing could be further from the truth. This seemingly random sequence of knocking was actually a secret code for the organization, and the door swung open soundlessly a moment later to admit the robed men.

Turning to the two younger followers standing beside him, the old man said quietly "You will carry this information to your grave, or you will find yourself rotting in one much earlier than you would like do you understand?" After the two nodded wordlessly, the man stroked his silvery beard and explained "The entry code is done through knocks, five then two then nine and then eight."

The woman looked at him as though he had sprouted a second head, but the young man who had been griping about putting his job in jeopardy gave out a breath of recognition. "The Black Day." He said, and the woman let out a gasp of realization. May 2, 1998 would forever be known to members of their order as 'The Black Day', the day on which the savior of Wizardkind fell, and the pretender took up the mantle that should never have been his, and warped the world into his twisted image.

This order and its ideals were virtually completely unknown to the people of the world, and indeed it was only a select few who even began to guess at the fact that groups such as this existed, but indeed they did. They were ready to share their message with the rest of the world, and educate the brainwashed masses of the lies that had been thrust upon them by those whom they viewed as their saviors.

This group was known as the Magical History Movement, or the MHM, and their goal was simple. Their aim was to make the Wizarding World realize that the Dark Lord Voldemort was actually a benevolent man whose only goal was to unite the Wizarding World under one banner and assert their control over the inferior Muggle world, which was of course their rightful place.

Unfortunately, as with any revolutionary movement, his plans had been met with resistance and he had been forced to violence in order to make this great new future a possibility. After all, it was difficult to unseat a firmly entrenched regime that had the support of the people, no matter how twisted and brainwashed their perceptions were.

Of course, as everyone who wasn't living underneath a rock knew, the Dark Lord was killed by Harry Potter on that fateful May day in 1998, a day that the victorious fiends had labeled 'Wizarding Independence Day'. But what very few people knew, according to the Magical History Movement, was that Harry Potter had killed the Dark Lord not to save the world from any 'evil plot' of his, but so that he could undermine the Ministry of Magic and take it over for himself, by installing his puppet as Minister of Magic. May 2nd was not a day of merry revel and excitement, but a day of determined vengeance against those who had destroyed their best chance at a united Wizarding World.

Of course there had been no plot of 'World Domination', that was the stuff of fantasies and children's stories, not of reality. Lord Voldemort had no intentions of taking over the world, he had sought only the unification of the Wizards of the world, but that had not been good enough for a boy with an overinflated ego by the name of Harry Potter.

Harry Potter's story was a strange one to be sure. During Lord Voldemort's first attempt to unite the Wizarding World, a group known as the Order of the Phoenix had emerged with the sole effort of opposing his beautiful vision. And while Lord Voldemort had wished to avoid the spilling of magical blood, he had been given no other choice than to take on this group of guerillas.

A couple by the name of James and Lily Potter were amongst the foremost leaders of this vigilante group, and after receiving a lead as to their whereabouts, Lord Voldemort had gone after them, hoping to cripple the guerilla Order of the Phoenix and secure peace for Wizardkind. But he had not anticipated the Dark Magic that the Potters had on their side, and the parents had even gone so far as to lay a curse upon their own son so as to ensure the destruction of their sworn enemy.

Yet Lord Voldemort had survived, weakened to be sure, but he had survived and had fled England to reconsolidate his power and seek a new way to enable his beautiful vision to become a reality. And when he had returned to England more than a decade later, he had brought with him new ideas of how to unite the Magical World and end the outdated International Statute of Secrecy.

But once again, he had been defeated by the Dark Magic of the Potters, and the world's hope of finally being united in the magical hierarchy that it should always have seen was shattered into a million pieces, and this time the Dark Lord was truly gone.

Of course, such a cold blooded murder would usually be met with outrage by the world community, but the charismatic guile of Harry Potter, and the emotional strings of the lies he had strung for the last two decades were strong enough to convince the Wizarding World that he had actually saved them all from some insane plot by Lord Voldemort to rule the world.

Needless to say, there was nothing more ridiculous than the notion that Lord Voldemort had been attempting to take over the world, but the magical community, eager for a step away from the chaos that had admittedly accompanied the changing of the guard, had readily accepted these ridiculous lies.

In fact, they had gobbled them up so readily, that just weeks later they had elected the finger puppet of the murderer himself, Kingsley Shacklebot, to the position of Ministry of Magic! In light of that shocking event, it was only a matter of time before a man known only as The Master began gathering the enlightened few around him, rallying under the banner of the Magical History Movement, with the goal of rectifying the wrongs of the history books.

This leader was a young mysterious man whose name was known only to a select few, and his past to even fewer. Like the organization itself, the man was faceless, almost entirely unknown, and extremely deadly; and it was because of him that this meeting had been called forward. His face was disguised behind a hood as he strode at the head of the room before the fifty or so who had gathered at his command.

The actual ranks of the Magical History Movement numbered in the thousands, but it was only a select few who had been invited to this meeting. The MHM could not afford to have too many of its members assembled in one location at the same time, and so the fifty present here today would be in charge of starting the chain of communication which would have the entire organization informed in a matter of hours without anyone being any the wiser.

Underneath the hood, a pair of gleaming eyes scanned the crowd before him, many of whom were new members of the order which he had founded. Effortlessly and silently he assessed who would be an asset to the organization as a combatant, and who would play other key roles. For he was an excellent judge of character, and could quickly point out a man's strengths and weaknesses as though he was reading stats off a chocolate frog card. Already he was beginning to plan which of his supporters he would be sending on this crucial mission. Only the best of the best could go, as their fate hinged on this mission being an absolute success.

Stopping in midstride, the man faced the crowd and said "I suppose you're all wondering why I've assembled you here. After all, our organization is rarely brought together in such numbers…it is how we have survived over the years." There were murmurings of assent throughout the room. Everyone present was expecting some kind of incredible breakthrough, for what else could have caused such an unprecedented gathering? Even fifty was an unusually large number for the Magical History Movement, as the last large scale meeting of the organization had consisted of only two dozen members!

"As I'm sure you know my friends, it was 18 years ago today that the greatest crime ever committed against Wizards took place, and to this day it goes unpunished." Pausing to glare out the window he continued "Everyone knows of this crime, everyone knows who committed it, but yet no one seems to care. Why is this?" at this he turned once again to face the room, as though daring one of them to answer. "Eighteen years ago today the world was lied to and deceived!" he proclaimed, slamming his hand down on the table. "Only we know the true story, and it is our sacred duty to ensure that the world knows the evil that Harry Potter has done!"

There was a general murmuring around the room at this point, yes they all knew that Harry Potter had murdered the Dark Lord eighteen years ago, and that by doing so he had prevented the Dark Lord from uniting the world under the banner of Wizard-rule, but what was the point of this meeting if not to tell them something that they already knew?

Still, no one dared to mention these qualms aloud however so long as The Master stood before them with what must have been vitally important words at his lips. The Master commanded absolute silence from his followers when he spoke, and dealt absolute punishments to those who did not comply. Even the muted whispers were more than he would tolerate, and they quickly realized this.

The Master's stare grew ice-cold, and the room quickly fell silent as those gathered caught a glimpse of his withering gaze. Fiery sparks jumped from his wand as the whispers died away, slowly fading as he felt the full attention of those gathered returning to him. "Yes," he continued, his voice harsher than before, "Harry Potter is the most praised criminal that the world has ever known. But now, we have found a way to ensure that the lies that he has created are forever shattered!"

The man's voice was as liquid gold to the listeners, who had cast aside their doubts at his promises and assurances. "How?" they chorused, as if trained to do so like pets, a chorus which they knew would be accepted almost as though he had whispered it into their ears himself. As though he knew this, the man's wicked grin grew even wider.

"How?" he scoffed, as if the very question was an insult to his intelligence. "We've all heard the legend of the famous Battle of Hogwarts, where Harry Potter cast down the Dark Lord and installed his puppet Kingsley Shacklebot as Minister of Magic." Again as if on cue, the others began hissing and booing at the mention of Potter and Shacklebot, but at a wave of the speaker's hand they grew silent once more.

"Yes!" The Master went on, "The magic used that day was some of the most incredible ever seen! And we have realized since that it was caused by an ancient artifact that none of the combatants knew about, the energy of which fuelled the spells of both sides! If we could find a way to channel its energy, then we will be able to destroy Harry Potter and his puppet regime once and for all! And restore the World to the way that it was meant to be!"

Those gathered seemed to be waiting for a cue to show their enthusiasm for this plan, as many were practically shaking in their seat. Most of those gathered had either been with the organization for some time or else were fresh faced rookies. Whether because of the newfound exuberance they felt in joining this cause, or at seeing their decades of work paid off, the feeling in the room was incredible, but no one dared speak until it was clear that The Master was done with his part.

Indeed, The Master seemed to know the power that his silence held over them, captivating them as spoken words never could. Each passing second held with it the promise of some tantalizing revelation that was likely never coming. They were not to know the details of The Master's plans, that was only to be shared with his commanders. Those gathered here today were there because The Master would be choosing the mission force from amongst them. But even if they were sent with this force, they would know very little about the reasons for their actions.

At last, when the mounting tension in the room seemed as though it were ready to burst like an overinflated balloon, The Master spoke again. This time his voice was neither loud, nor harsh, nor enflamed with passion, nor even particularly excited. His voice was barely even audible, no more than the faintest of whispers, but this too was done intentionally.

For The Master was well trained in the art of charisma, which was how he had been able to craft around him such an elite corps as made up the central circle of the Magical History Movement. The Movement had expanded from there, but it was The Master himself who was solely responsible for the group that made up the core of the MHM.

And so, with the full intention of keeping his voice as quiet as possible, so as to force them to listen extra closely to hear him, The Master said "My friends, that is not all that is at stake here. We have the chance to secure an incredible victory for our cause." Every seated member leaned as far towards The Master as they possibly could as he continued "You see, with this artifact in our grasp, not only will we have the ability to overthrow the tainted regime of Harry Potter, but we will have a leader worthy of leading us there."

As the air was sucked out of the room as though by some enormous vacuum cleaner, he spoke the words that were the reason that this meeting had truly been called "You see, if all goes as planned, it will not be I who leads us to the gates of the Ministry, it will be the man who started it all." Taking one last breath, before raising a fist in triumph, The Master concluded "My friends, at long last the deed that Potter did will be undone, the Dark Lord shall return to us! You see, in just a few short months, we shall reawaken Lord Voldemort, and beneath him we shall free our world from the traitor Harry Potter!"

At the end of his speech, the man was short of breath, and his brow was covered in sweat – facts which thankfully none could see beneath his hood – but his words had done their job superbly. The crowd assembled around him began to roar and cheer in approval, a greeting which he seemed to take as trivial and commonplace. After acknowledging them he shouted "We are all followers of the Dark Lord, and we shall not rest until the truth is known to all the world!" and with those words, he strode from the hall to begin making preparations for the tasks ahead.

There was one thing though, that he had not told them, and it was absolutely central to the plan. Still, it was so vitally important, and so wholly impossible that he dare not reveal it to any other than those who would be a part of the task force. They would need to find a way to sneak into the grounds of Hogwarts; and for that they would need a plan that had been meticulously crafted by one of the most gifted schemers of all time.

"Mandeni!" the man barked, calling one of his most trusted advisors to his side. The man was tall, and had short-cropped black hair that rose up in the front like a tidal wave ready to crash down on an unsuspecting shore-line. "Yes my liege?" the man replied, kneeling on the ground before his leader, fearful of what the man could possibly want with him, yet at the same time overjoyed with the recognition that he had been given.

Taking neither notice nor interest in his follower's fear or his joy, The Master ushered him aside and whispered "You are very familiar with the magical defenses surrounding Hogwarts. So I need you to take a look at these plans and tell me if they will work." Mandeni had been a part of the reconstruction effort after the Battle of Hogwarts, and had overseen much of the reinforcements and enchantments that had been placed on the Castle and the surrounding area.

Mandeni rose with trembling knees from where he knelt at his master's feet and examined the plans closely, knowing all too well how important this decision was. If he told The Master that the plans would not work he would be furious and their plans would be set back several months as new ones were drawn up. No doubt, all of this rage and frustration would find an outlet in him, and he had no desire to be used as a human dart-board. On the other hand, if he told The Master that the plan was sound and it failed, for whatever reason, he would wish that he had never been born.

His life hung in the balance on this decision, but at the same time, so too did his future place in the world. If he could aid The Master in the crafting of these plans, he would earn himself great prestige within the Magical History Movement, something which was invaluable to one such as himself.

They walked for some time, making their way through the various hallways of the home, each of which were richly adorned. This was not the home of The Master, indeed no one within the Magical History Movement had so much as an inkling where he lived. The house was that of a senior member of the Magical History Movement, one who had died three years before but whose death had been kept a secret from the rest of the world. As far as anyone needed to know, Walter Cummingham was still alive and well, if extremely anti-social in his London villa.

The Master encouraged Mandeni to take his time, going over each and every detail of the plan a second and third time to make sure that nothing could go wrong, and Mandeni quickly saw why. This was a plan that could not fail, nor could it drag on for too long before it succeeded. It was an operation that should have taken months and months to undertake successfully, and yet they were to somehow accomplish this feat without once being discovered by so much as a single wandering student.

If so much as a single student stumbled across their operation, then everything would be ruined. They could not properly obliviate a student without the signs making itself apparent due to the sensitive nature of the minds of small children. Should they try to erase the memories of the incident they would leave the children gibbering wrecks, something which would surely reveal to the teachers of Hogwarts what had taken place. And they could not more kill any nosey students or take them hostage as a missing student would surely prompt a massive search leading to their discovery!

Still, for all the inherent dangers within it, the plan was beautifully laid out! Everything was accounted for and compensated for right down to the most miniscule detail, and Mandeni could not help but marvel at The Master's ingenuity. He knew that The Master was a genius, that was no secret, but the scale of this was beyond genius, it was as though it had been handed down by some omniscient and omnipotent being.

At last, Mandeni was certain, though it seemed as though he had been all along and had only been making sure. But he was now more certain than he had ever been of anything in his entire life. He had gone over every detail countless times, checking it against each defense that the school had, magical mundane and otherwise. There was nothing that he could conceive of that could derail this plan, it was too well laid out, and would simply not yield to failure.

But the infallibility of this plan was not the only thing that was keeping Mandeni spellbound, as the nature of these documents left him gaping open mouthed at the plan that was being put into motion. He simply could not believe what he was reading, but he knew that if this was what The Master had planned then it must be true, but it was simply too extraordinary!

Mandeni was a student of the old magic, but never had he thought that he would see this artifact cropping up again! He had heard stories of it once, long ago, but they had only been that … stories. Even if objects such as these did in fact exist, Mandeni had always felt that they would be better off left unused. There were some forces too great and terrible for man to attempt to lay claim to, and this was most certainly one of them.

But still, if it could help the cause, if it could bring the Magical History Movement closer to their objective, then Mandeni supposed that it was all for the best. Perhaps this once, they could dabble in the darker and more dangerous aspects of magic, so long as it was for the greater good of Wizardkind.

Finally, the man spoke, his voice quaking with fear as he continued to stare at the parchment he held in front of him. He came to a stop, and the hooded man did so as well a few paces later. Knowing that the moment of truth had come, The Master looked at him quite expectantly and demanded somewhat impatiently "Well?"

"They are flawless my lord," he gasped, still feeling extremely uneasy about this whole affair "there is no way that anyone could prevent this plan from going forward." The Master remained unconvinced by Mandeni's sniveling as he asked for confirmation just a moment later "And you're absolutely sure about this?" Though he did not say it aloud, it was clear that the sentiment 'or else' were hanging above their conversation.

Mandeni paled somewhat, but at last he nodded very slowly, his throat had constricted and was now denying him the ability of speech, but his nod seemed to be enough for The Master, as he nodded quietly as he took the parchment scrolls back from Mandeni and muttered quietly to himself "Good, good. Very good." He glanced at Mandeni and said "Thank you Mandeni, your services are no longer necessary."

With a sigh of relief, Mandeni turned to return to his place in the meeting hall, where the others were most certainly wrapping things up by now. Perhaps if he hurried he could join the discussion of what was going on with this new plan before everyone left. After all, the plans had not given much extraneous information, but there had been a detail here and there that had given him a good idea of what they were after, and he was certain that everyone was going to be blown away by that information!

He had taken his first step towards the stairs when he heard the sound of rushing wind behind him, and saw the faintest hint of green filling the room. Just as his eyes began to widen with the realization of what was happening, he fell to the floor … dead.

**And so we begin again. I am very nervous about this but I'm going to go for it and give you guys a schedule in the hopes that I can stick to it**. **Every Monday I will post the next revised Chapter of James Potter and the Continuous Legacy, and every Friday I will post an all new Chapter for James Potter and the Alchemist's Curse. Thanks to everyone who has been following me for so long, and to those who are just stumbling upon me now too. Don't forget to click those buttons and REVIEW and FOLLOW!  
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**Also, one of my friends gave me the idea of creating a Twitter Feed to give updates and info on what's going on with the writing of the series. Little insights and commentary into what is going on with the writing, uploading, and hashing out of the series. I don't know how well this will work and whether or not anyone will like the idea, but I've decided to go with it on a trial basis to see if people like it. If they do, I will continue, if not then I'll scrap that idea and just continue with the writing as I did before, but I think it would be a fun idea if people were into it.**

**So if anyone is on Twitter, or likes this idea and would like to make a Twitter to follow what's going on with the series, you should follow me on Twitter at 'TheJamesSPotter'**

**Hopefully this will work out and make this more enjoyable for everyone, if you guys like this idea or don't like it or have any thoughts whatsoever let me know in Reviews or PMs. In the end, this is all about you guys, the readers, and this is my attempt to make it cooler for you guys so please give me some feedback. :)**


	2. Chapter 2: A New Beginning

Chapter Two: A New Beginning

It had forever been a joke amongst the residents of Grimmauld Place to tell newcomers to be sure to visit 'Number Twelve' whilst they were there, a joke that many agreed had long since outlived its humor. Yet for some reason it never ceased to amuse them when the befuddled visitors spent the rest of the afternoon trying to find where the house was located. It seemed like a simple enough task, until they noticed that the building to the right of Number Eleven Grimmauld Place was in fact Number Thirteen Grimmauld Place.

Because, there was no Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, as an amusing mistake of the town committee had incorrectly marked what should have been Number Twelve as Number Thirteen, and continued onward from there. Of course, it was a rather poor excuse for a joke, but after all these years it was still a favorite of those who called the cul-de-sac home.

However, other than these rather humorous engagements, the residents of Grimmauld Place rarely thought of the numerical anomaly. There was simply no Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place and that was all there was to it. Of course, it was fun to use the quirk to confuse other people, but there was not much use in wasting their time thinking about it. After all, what good would it do to pay so much undue attention to a little curiosity such as this.

However, sometimes some odd folk showed up in Grimmauld Place with no other intentions than to view the strange gap between Buildings Eleven and Thirteen. The place where, if there had been more than a sliver of space, Number Twelve would have logically have been found. Always they were very strange folk too; they wore strange cloaks and never spoke to any of the residents. It was as though these people found the fact that there was no Number Twelve to be an unacceptable lapse of logic, and were determined to rectify the problem in whatever way they could. And even more peculiar, they seemed to vanish into thin air the instant that anyone tried to go ask them why they were there.

However, what the residents of Grimmauld Place did not know, was that there in fact _was_ a Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place and that amazingly enough it was concealed in that place between Numbers Eleven and Thirteen. The House had been concealed from the eyes of Muggles so long ago that no one could remember a time when it had been visible for all to see. For the people who lived in this house were Wizards … and ones who had more pressing concerns than a neighbor coming by and asking to borrow a cup of sugar.

Originally, the house had been concealed for purposed of protection, as the residents of Number Twelve had seen its halls play home to two great wars; but though both Wizarding Wars were now over, the occupants of Number Twelve had kept the enchantments in place to maintain some semblance of privacy. For you see, the residents of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place were not normal by any means – not even by the standards of Wizards. In fact, they were about as far from normal as it was humanly possible to be.

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><p>On the Third Floor of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, a pair of chocolate brown eyes cracked open as light peeking through the curtains broke over his face. Ordinarily, the boy would have been groggy and slow to awake – trying as many children would to drag out every precious second of sleep that he could – but today was a very special day. The day that he had been looking forward to ever since he had been old enough to understand who and what he truly was had come at last.<p>

There would be no sleeping in on this morning, this was a day that was going to be the most important day of his entire life, and he was not going to miss a minute of it because of something as silly as sleep!

So rather than laze about and resume sleeping until his mum came by and dragged him out of his bed, the boy jumped out of bed after shaking the sleep from his head. He had had that same dream again: the one that he would be living soon enough, if everything went the way it was supposed to.

But why wouldn't it? There was not even the slightest reason to suspect that anything would happen differently. Today was just a formality really, just having what he already knew confirmed for him. Still, it was a rite of passage, and as far as the boy was concerned it was just as important as the real thing.

Rushing over to his dresser, the boy glanced in the mirror for only an instant before scrambling about his room to getting dressed as fast as he possibly could. His dark brown hair – which was less than a shade away from being completely black – was an absolute wreck, but that was to be expected. There was nothing he could do about that, and so he instead proceeded to tug up his jeans despite the mirror's indignant shouts of "Comb your hair you animal!"

Perhaps most people would have been alarmed if their mirror began criticizing their sense of style, or lack thereof, but this was a familiar experience for him after all of these years. Rolling his eyes at the Enchanted Mirror, the boy pulled his jumper, which was the same shade of brown as his eyes except for the golden 'J' sewn in the center of it.

Satisfied with his appearance, the boy rushed downstairs, not bothering to stop and greet his younger brother, who was walking towards the bathroom rubbing his eyes sleepily. "Hey what're you doin …?" the younger boy began, no doubt wondering why his older brother was up early for what was probably the first time in his life.

"No time, gotta go!" was the hasty reply, drawing an exasperated shake of the head from the younger boy as he remembered the only thing that could possibly have gotten his brother out of bed before ten o' clock on a Saturday.

Leaving his brother behind, the older brother reached the kitchen, and saw his parents discussing something quietly over cups of coffee. His father, whose equally untidy black hair hung down nearly to his vibrant green eyes was glancing upwards every few moments as though waiting for something; while his mother, whose flaming red hair was tied back in a pony-tail, was glancing down at the Prophet as she spoke.

Ordinarily, he would have tried to eavesdrop on their conversation, but today he had more important things in mind. "Did it come! Did it come?" the boy asked, jumping up on the countertop looking for even the slightest trace of parchment. Mischief making and the like could wait for now, there were important matters to discuss and letters to read!

After exchanging a knowing look with his mother, the boy's father looked up at the ceiling and said in a forced tone of concern "You know, I don't think it did. Maybe you just didn't get in." but the boy was not having any of it. On an ordinary day he would have delighted in going on with such a joke, but this was serious business!

"Yes it did! Yes it did!" the boy exclaimed, now practically shaking with suppressed anticipation. The result was almost comical as his disheveled hair flew around even more wildly than usual.

With a laugh, his father decided that it would be best to stop torturing his son as he extracted a parchment envelope from behind his back and handed it to his eldest son saying with a grin "You knew it was going to, so will you calm down already?" his face glowing with pride as he said so.

The second that the envelope had entered the boy's sight, he had neither eyes nor ears for anything else. He barely even heard the words that his father had said to him, he was far too busy staring at the small parchment envelope in his hand as though it were the Holy Grail itself! There was only one thought in the boy's head, as all others were immediately swept aside, and it was an unrestrained mental shout of 'Yes!'

But he would not allow himself that luxury just yet, he had to see it for himself, he had to hold it in his own hands before he would believe that it was real. And so before another word had escaped from his father's lips, he grabbed the envelope from him and immediately tore it open, removing the sheet of parchment inside with the utmost of reverence. Hands trembling with excitement, he read the letter, scarcely breathing as he did so.

_ Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
>Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.<em>

The boy did not need to read on, he let out a yell of excitement and hugged his parents – something which he would fervently deny having ever done only hours later – he was going to Hogwarts, just like he had always dreamed he would … no, just like he'd always _known_ he would.

* * *

><p>It took a good ten minutes to finally calm the boy enough to get him to stand still in one place for more than three seconds. He had kept looking at the letter in his hands again, as though trying to memorize every word on it. His moment was here at last, yet he was still nervous that it was all going to disappear right in front of him.<p>

"Good job son." his father said to him the moment he was sure he was actually listening, the pride evident in his voice. "We always knew that you'd be going someday, just like us. I hope you don't mind, we already wrote back to enroll you." an idea which he clearly thought rather funny for some reason.

The boy could do nothing but laugh, did he mind, was that what his father had really said? Of course he didn't mind! Nothing was going to bother him today, because he was finally old enough to go to Hogwarts and learn magic just like his parents! This was what he had waited for all of his life, dreamed of every waking moment. His Godbrother had told him all sorts of amazing things about the Castle, and he had even bullied some information about his older cousins, but now he would have the chance to go for himself!

His father seemed to understand his speechlessness, so he smiled and ruffled his hair, which certainly did not need to be messed up any further, saying "Well, we're going to have to head down to Diagon Alley before we catch our Portkey, we may not have time once we get back."

At first the boy looked at his father blankly, what was all of this talk about a Portkey, for students took the train to Hogwarts, as every young witch and wizard knew. But his father had said something about not having time when they 'got back', so he could not have been talking about the train. All of the excitement was making it hard for him to think straight, until it finally hit him with all the force of a speeding Bludger.

When it finally hit him the boy was shocked with himself for ever having been confused in the first place, for how in the world could he have ever forgotten? They were going to Ireland next week to see the Final Match of the Quidditch World Cup! His father had managed to get tickets for the Match, which would pit England against Italy, and the whole family had been looking forward to it since March!

He had probably been more excited than anyone else, loving Quidditch as much as he did, but he had been so caught up with getting his letter that he had totally forgotten about the whole thing! And in a family like theirs, being the most excited about anything pertaining to Quidditch was saying something very significant. Their family practically _breathed_ Quidditch!

As if it had not taken his parents long enough to calm him down after receiving his Hogwarts Acceptance Letter, the boy was now right back there again. Now though, he was not just looking forward to being able to go to Hogwarts, but to top it all off he was going to see the Quidditch World Cup in just a few short weeks? Could life get any better?

Confident that this was the best day of his life, the boy pumped his fist in excitement and said "England's going to win right dad? They're the best team ever!" he exclaimed, before catching a pointed glance from his father and adding "Even though they don't have anyone as good as you anymore Mummy."

It was very rare that he ever called his mum 'mummy' anymore, unless he was in deep deep trouble, or he was trying to get on her good side for the day. At the moment however, he was just trying to make sure that he didn't end up in the kind of situation that his Uncle had been in last Christmas. His mum might not be all that big, but when she got angry she was downright scary! In fact, he was more scared of his mum than he was of his dad, and that was saying something!

His mother had played for the English Quidditch Team back before he was born, and had Captained England to their first World Cup victory in several centuries, a fact which everyone made sure to mention every time he held still long enough for him to mention. Still, it wasn't like he minded, he was proud that his mum was a famous Quidditch Star, that was actually a _cool_ thing to be famous for!

The boy was about to ask his mum whether she thought that England could possibly win without her, but at that moment there was a thudding sound behind them as someone came trudging down the stairs. The boy spun around instinctively, though he already knew without any doubt who it was that was making their way down the stairs.

And sure enough his brother, the spitting image of their father, emerged sleepy eyed and drowsy a moment later; meandering lazily into the kitchen before being scooped up by their mother. Unlike his brother, who was alert and excited, the younger boy was barely awake; his striking green eyes barely visible as squints underneath his mess of black hair. "He got it then?" the boy asked sleepily, it was clear that he had never doubted the arrival of his brother's letter.

Unable to resist the chance to gloat, the boy replied "You bet your (toy) broomstick I got it! Are you jealous little bro? I'm going to Hogwarts, and you're gonna be stuck here all year having your hand held by mum!" His little brother was his favorite target for teasing and pranks, but the two were also very close, and privately he wondered what he was going to do at Hogwarts without his brother around to keep him company.

The younger boy's bright green eyes filled with tears, for in fact, he was very jealous of his older brother who got to go to Hogwarts a full year before he did. But more than that, he knew he was going to miss the older boy terribly, despite his constant teasing of him. Besides, he was also afraid that his brother was going to forget about him while he was at school.

But still, he couldn't just take that a shot like that lying down! Something had to be said, though he was never as good at one liners and comebacks as his brother was. "Yea, I'm sure I'll be jealous of you slaving away over textbooks all day and getting your head shoved into toilets by little girls!" he said, poking his head up out of his mother's lap to get a better view of his brother.

It was rather striking to see the two brothers going back and forth like this, because their physical appearances were so strikingly similar, and yet so entirely different. If you didn't know what to look for, the boy's were all but indistinguishable. Though separated by a year, they were virtually the same height and build, and they both had the same messy crop of dark hair atop their heads.

But to those who knew what they were looking for, there was no way they could ever mistake the brothers for one another, a fact which the elder brother was quite happy for. To anyone who was paying attention, his brother's green eyes and jet black hair stood in sharp contrast to his own brown eyes, and hair that was thankfully just a few shades lighter than his brothers'.

"You would know all about that seeing as you're such a pansy that you couldn't stand up to a six year old." He retorted, referring to an incident just a few days before when their youngest cousin had sent his brother running off in fear.

"Oh that doesn't count!" the smaller boy protested, now practically trying to stand up on their mother's lap as he shouted back "And besides _you're_ the one who started running away the moment that you thought she was on to what we were doing!" This conversation was most definitely headed the wrong way, not because of anything that was going on between the brothers, but because their mother did not yet know about the incident to which they were referring.

And knowing the way their mother got when they picked on their younger cousins, that was most definitely a situation that they did not want to find themselves in this close to the World Cup. Fortunately though, she seemed not to notice as she grabbed the both of their attentions with a swift interruption.

"Alright that's enough!" the boys' mother said, never one to tolerate her sons' arguments and fighting. "If you two don't cut this nonsense out right now, neither one of you is going to come with us to the World Cup! I swear I'll leave both of you with Grandma, and you'll have to hear about what happened from your sister!"

Nothing could have shut the boys up faster than those words, as both brothers immediately fell silent, but still glared at each other intently. "Well, it's a start." Their mother said with a sigh, almost laughing at the murderous expressions on her sons' faces as she set down her younger son and set to making breakfast for the family.

Honestly, what with the way those two got sometimes she was surprised that they hadn't killed each other! Of course it wasn't for lack of trying, as she had witnessed on far too many occasions. It never ceased to amaze her how the two could go from being the best of friends to the fiercest of enemies and back in a matter of moments. She knew that her relationship with her siblings had been far from simple, but surely it had not been _this_ insane?

"MUMMY!" came the terrified shout of her younger son, no doubt coming as a result of some clever idea on the part of her eldest which was going to make a lot of work for her. Shaking her head angrily, she turned around saying angrily "I told you two to stop fighting!"

When would they ever learn?

* * *

><p>Later that night, alone in his bedroom, the brown-haired boy took the letter out of his pocket, re-reading it for the thousandth time, as though to convince himself that it was actually real. He was not one for reading, but he felt that he could read that piece of parchment over and over again every day for the rest of his life and never get tired of seeing the words that were carefully printed upon it.<p>

He had seen his father's letter once, though his father kept it locked away safely most of the time as though it were a priceless artifact, which indeed it as well have been for all he was concerned. And he had, of course, demanded to see the letters when his older cousins had gone to Hogwarts for the first time, but there was something different about seeing his own name atop the scrap of parchment.

Though he had not actually done anything to reach this moment other than having been born, the boy could not help but feel a sense of deep pride and accomplishment. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had better look out, because he was going to show each and every student in that Castle how a real wizard got it done!

It did not matter that he was only eleven years old, it did not matter that he was so short that several of his younger cousins towered over him, and it did not matter that he didn't know so much as a scrap of magic. From the moment that he set foot in that school, he was going to own each and every inch of it!

He knew that he was going to Hogwarts with atmospherically high expectations being placed on him by people whom he had never met. He knew that everyone was expecting him to be some kind of amazing super-kid like his father had been, but he did not allow that prospect to bother him all that much. It would not be long before they realized that he was not his father, and that he did not need to be. He could be his own person, and they were just going to have to deal with that.

And of course, if there was anyone who was not ok with the fact that he was not his father in any capacity, he always had his Godbrother waiting in the wings to lay down the law! Teachers and Slytherins of Hogwarts, tremble in fear because your days are numbered! For this was a rule breaking duo who were not going to settle for just being normal pranksters, they were going to blow the roof off of that Castle! Together – he was certain – they would do things that not even the most daring of pranksters had ever dared to attempt before!

OK, so he would be lying if he tried to say that he had never once thought about his father's legacy, and whether or not he was ever going to be able to escape the gigantic shadow which he had cast over their entire family. It was a name that was difficult to live up to, but there was no reason for him to suspect that he would not be able to make a name for himself too!

After all, he was not just an ordinary kid, he had done some pretty impressive stuff himself and he was only eleven years old! If what his father had said in his stories was anything to go by, the most impressive thing _he_ had ever done by the time he had turned eleven was accidentally sick a boa constrictor on his cousin, and as much of a prat as that guy was it certainly was not anything to be that impressed about.

OK, and there had been that whole matter of defeating the greatest wizard of all time when he was just a baby, but who honestly paid attention to those kinds of things? It wasn't like he had done something _really_ amazing like …

But the more he thought about it, the more the boy realized that there was really no way that he was ever going to be able to do those kinds of things. Who was he kidding, trying to tell himself that there was nothing impressive about defeating the most infamous Dark Wizard of all time because it didn't involve any rule breaking? That was just a lie he told himself so that he wouldn't spend every night tossing and turning about the fear of not mattering.

So maybe that was how it was going to be. Maybe most people would expect him to never live to be anything more than the son of the most famous wizard of all time. Maybe there was not much chance of him ever doing anything to hold so much as a candle to the roaring inferno that was his father's fame.

But he knew one thing more certainly than anything else, and it was this thought that he held most dear in times like this. Maybe there was no evil Dark Wizard for him to defeat, maybe the world did not need to be saved by him, and maybe there was no battle being waged around him. But he was going to make an impact one way or another!

Sure, maybe he would never be as famous as his father, in fact that was all but certain, but that did not matter to him anymore! He did not need to be as famous as his father, or even half as famous as his father. Hell, he did not even need to be famous at all, though he was always going to be – even if it was just by association.

What was important was that he was going to forge his own path, and do things that _he_ wanted to do, and not let his father's legacy determine the way he lived his life. He had spent so many years doing everything because of what his father had once done, and it had driven him mad! For no matter how hard he had tried he had never been able to equal any of his father's numerous accomplishments!

And now he knew, more certainly than he knew anything, that when people spoke of him they would not do so by comparing his every deed to those of his father. He would not be a tiny spark beside the flame!

No, he would be his own fire, his own story, and it would stand apart from anything his father had done! His father's story had been written, and now it was his turn to write a story that would some day hold the world spellbound! But he would not begin his story in the blank pages that his father had left over, his story would be a tale all to itself! There would be more than just one famous Potter, he would make sure of that!

It had taken him a long time to come to accept this, but now that he had he felt freer and happier than he had ever since those thoughts had fist entered his head as a young boy. Grinning at himself in the mirror, the boy murmured quietly "It's my turn now." His words started as merely a whisper, but they got slowly louder as he continued.

"So what am I to do? Will I mire forever in the rut that has been carved out for me? Do I color within the lines of the picture that was drawn before I was even born?" He already knew the answer, but it felt so good to say these things out loud.

Evidently though, others did not support this viewpoint, as the mirror snapped in a curt voice "Please stop blathering to yourself; I get enough of a headache listening to when you there are actually other people pretending to listen to you prattle on about nothing."

The boy scowled at the mirror, he really was going to have to get rid of that thing sooner or later, but despite himself he had grown rather attached to the thing. It had been there for as long as he could remember, and in all fairness it did have a remarkably fast wit and a very amusing sense of humor.

Still, he took this as a challenge. Just the first person who would doubt that he had what it took to stand beside his father's legacy. There would be many more, he knew there would, but he would show them all in the end!

"You just watch!" he declared, the statement a firm stance towards anyone who would say that he could never accomplish such an insurmountable task. He was not the kind of person to sit content and listen to other people who said that the kinds of things he wanted to do were not possible. If he listened to those people then how would he ever to anything fun?

Of course, if he just listened to those people he also would probably have managed to keep himself in one piece more often than not, but that was an irrelevant sidenote.

Yes, he was ready for his future, ready to face the world that was expecting things from him that he could not deliver. Soon, very soon, they would know who he was and what he was there for.

The next day would be the start of something new and exciting, and he could barely wait for it to come! He kept looking at his clock, waiting for his bedtime to come, an event which was surely unprecedented, so that he could crawl into bed and wait for morning to come. The fact that he could have gone to bed before his bedtime if he wished had never occurred to him. After all, bedtime was bedtime, and so of course that was when you went to sleep.

As he fell back on his bed with a wide grin, the boy placed the letter on his bedside table knowing that there was no longer any doubt; at long last, James Sirius Potter was going to Hogwarts!

**Thanks again to everyone for following, remember to Review! And don't forget that James Potter and the Alchemist's Curse will be updated every Friday as well! :)**

**A big thanks to everyone who has been following. :)  
><strong>


	3. Chapter 3: A Wand of Destiny

Chapter Three: A Wand of Destiny

Several days had gone by since James Potter had received his Hogwarts Acceptance Letter, and each and every one of those days had been filled with fantasies of the adventures that he was going to have there. He had already heard so much about Hogwarts from his older cousins Victoire Molly and Dominique, and his God-Brother Teddy Lupin: mostly from Teddy though.

Like her mother, Victoire was not so fond of James and chose to spend most of her time at the Potter residence talking to James' younger siblings Albus and Lily who were more 'sensitive' and 'mature' or whatever. Though, if he was being perfectly honest, she wasn't too fond of Albus either. While the younger Potter boy was certainly more mature than his brother he was still lacking in maturity by most people's standards.

But that was just an added bonus for James, who had always thought that his Auntie Fleur was a bit of a stuck up snob. And though no one ever said so out loud, he had a feeling that his mother was of a similar opinion about her Sister-in-Law. Lily seemed to really like her though, for reasons which James could not even begin to fathom. Still, the sixteen year old _was_ a Gryffindor, which James supposed had to count for something.

Dominique, Victoire's younger sister, was not much better, though she was certainly somewhat more open than Victoire. Only one year James' senior, Dominique was a Ravenclaw and seemed to have spent every waking moment of her First Year at Hogwarts with her nose stuck in the spines of textbooks.

Molly Weasley, a Hufflepuff who was two years older than James, was probably the worst of the lot. Not only did she find James to be entirely annoying, but she was probably the most boring person on the face of the planet. His father always told James that the only thing stopping them from thinking that Molly was actually her father Percy travelled to meet them from the past was the fact that she was a girl.

Molly, rather than share any stories from Hogwarts with James, had decided that it would be best not to tell him anything at all, lest he start to get dangerous ideas of what he would do once he got there. Molly had instead spent every opportunity telling James not to get in trouble, lest he ruin _her_ chances to be a Prefect in a few years time. Honestly, James could not believe that anyone could actually be that much of a priss, even Molly! Thankfully, her visits were few and far between.

Teddy Lupin though, had been a gold-mine of information about the wonders of Hogwarts for both of the Potter boys, who doted on his every word as if their very lives hinged on them. Though they were not blood relations with the older boy, James and Albus both viewed Teddy as an older brother and practically worshipped him. James for one, would probably have thrown himself off a building if Teddy had told him that it was a good idea.

Teddy Lupin was going into his Seventh Year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a fact which James was only too aware of. He was only going to have one year to spend at Hogwarts with his God-Brother before the older boy graduated, and he was determined to make the most of it! Teddy was everything that James wanted to be: cool, popular, Captain of the Quidditch Team, and not to mention one of the best pranksters that Hogwarts had ever seen!

He was at the Potter house almost every day, and every summer for the last six years he had been filling James' heads with tantalizing stories about the enchanted corridors of Hogwarts. He could hardly believe that he was going to be going there in just a few short months, that he would be attending the school of all of his parents' stories, that he would soon be carving out a story of his own!

"Teddy, do you think I'll be able to make the Gryffindor Quidditch Team?" James asked one day, perhaps a bit too eagerly. Of all the things that James had been thinking about these days, none of them filled him with quite as much uncertainty as this. Even his fears of never being able to measure up to expectations paled in comparison to his terror of not making the team.

Teddy shot a glance at Albus, who looked up from his book just long enough to shrug. Teddy knew that James was probably not quite so confident as he usually was, but he was not quite sure whether or not this was a question to be taken seriously, or one to which he could reply jokingly. Even at the best of times, it was hard to know exactly what was going on in James' head.

Still, it was not hard to wager a guess as to what was happening here. Everyone knew that James' father had been the youngest person to play Quidditch at Hogwarts in several centuries when he had made the Gryffindor Quidditch Team as a First Year. Since then, the school had amended the rule to allow First Years to join House Teams, a rarity but not something unheard of, and James surely wanted to – even if it was just this once – measure up to his father in something.

"Well, we've got a couple of openings." Teddy said encouragingly "I'm not going to lie to you James, everyone who was on the team last year is keeping their spot this season. So when it comes down to it you're looking at two slots for the newbies."

One of the things that James and Albus always admired about Teddy was that he was never afraid to speak his mind. Most Captains gave some nonsense spiel about 'everyone has an equal shot' when in reality half of the roster was already written out before tryouts ever happened.

"Which spots?" James asked, ignoring a sarcastic snort coming from Albus behind them. They both knew that James already knew which slots were open, but James still wanted to hear Teddy tell him that he could make it.

Teddy realized that James knew this too, and so he glanced upwards for a moment and said very slowly "Gee, I don't know …" When at last he looked back downwards, his face was now a mirror image of James'. Teddy Lupin, you see, was a metamorphmagus, and though his usual appearance was one of a narrow-faced teen with vivid turquoise hair, the boy could at will morph his appearance into any form he wished.

"Hmm, I wonder what positions are open on the House Team!" the James-clone said, looking quite confused. "Ooh I know, I'll go ask Teddy since he's clearly the most amazing person on the face of the planet!" he declared with a confident grin as he allowed his expression to change back to normal.

James couldn't help it, when Teddy started laughing he laughed right along with him, though they were nothing compared to Albus who was literally rolling across the floor in laughter, his book lying forgotten at his side. Though James had known Teddy all his life it was still rather disconcerting when Teddy adopted his appearance, even though it was only ever for brief amounts of time.

"Oh just say it." James demanded, not bothering to contest anything that Teddy had said whilst impersonating him – at least partially because it was true. Teddy was indeed the coolest person in all of existence, and James fervently wished that he could someday hope to be half as cool as him.

It took Teddy a long time to stop laughing, and when he finally did the fact that his face was bright red had nothing to do with his being a Metamorphmagus. "Sweet Merlin!" Teddy exclaimed, "I can't breathe!" a fact which did not help James' confidence very much. Was it really that funny?

At last, Teddy responded, speaking as though explaining a simple concept to a small child, "Well James, we have two slots open right now. We need a new Seeker, and one replacement Chaser. And if you want to replace Josh as Seeker then you're going to have your work cut out for you." Teddy had told James that Josh Welshmen was the boy solely responsible for Gryffindor's last Quidditch Cup Championship back when he [Teddy] had been in his Fifth Year.

But quietly, so quietly he almost may have not spoken at all, James replied "I don't want to be Seeker." words which he had never spoken aloud in his entire life.

Needless to say, the reaction to this news was nothing short of spectacular. Albus looked up from his book with a wide-eyed expression that suggested an honest belief that James had lost his mind, and Teddy's jaw had practically reached his chest!

"But James," Teddy said, "I always thought –"

"That I'd want to be Seeker cause that's what _dad_ did?" James asked, speaking to Teddy as though his father was both of their dads, which in a sense he was. "Well I don't, I never have. I want to be a Chaser!"

Teddy looked at him for a moment as though not sure what to say. Yes, James had always played Chaser during their impromptu Quidditch games, but that was only because they'd never found a good way to replicate a snitch out there. At last though, Teddy grinned and said "Then go for it James!" which, simple as it was, had been exactly what James had needed to hear.

* * *

><p>As much as Quidditch was ever present on James' mind, what with the impending Quidditch World Cup, and his own House tryouts just around the corner, there was another thing that was dwelling on his thoughts just as strongly. The day had come at last when he would go to Diagon Alley, not to go shopping for stupid things with his mother, but to buy his school things for Hogwarts!<p>

So when James woke up on the decided day, his every feature was brimming with excitement. As he hurriedly dressed and ran downstairs to eat before the family went to Diagon Alley, he didn't bother to stop when Kreacher, his father's old House Elf, asked him "Would the young Master James like Kreacher to help him prepare for his big day?"

James loved Kreacher, he was a funny little guy and always extremely helpful. However, James was already bounding down the stairs to the main landing by this time, and so shouted back "I got it Kreacher!" To which the Elf simply shook his head and continued towards the disaster area of James' bedroom. Though he cleaned it every day, James still managed to find a way to make an absolute wreck of it by the next morning.

As James crossed the Living Room looking for his parents, he caught sight of his brother, Albus Severus Potter, who must have woken up some time ago as he was already dressed and carrying around half a piece of toast. Albus looked at his older brother in amusement and said "James, what in Merlin's name are you wearing?" James had absolutely no idea what his brother was talking about until he looked down and realized that in his rush he had put his Christmas Jumper on inside out.

Every year all of the Weasley cousins, a group which James, Albus, and Lily considered themselves fully a part of, received a hand-knit sweater from their Grandma Molly. They called them their 'Weasley-Sweaters', and all of them wore them with a great sense of personal pride. Their Grandmother had, at one point, suggested they change the name to Weasley/Potter-Sweaters, for fear that her daughter's children would feel excluded, but James and Albus had immediately screamed that such a change would be unacceptable! Yes they were Potters, but they were proud to be Weasleys too!

Al was still sniggering at his brother's foolishness when James made a desperate attempt to save his dignity. Something this stupid would lead to an amount of mocking James could not tolerate, and so he had to work out of it! "I did that on purpose!" James explained, settling upon the first excuse that popped into his head. This, however, did not seem to help as his brother only laughed all the harder.

"Sure, you may laugh now." James declared, "But this is going to be the next big thing, just you wait!" James said, which stopped his brother's laughing, but didn't prevent him from retorting with "So long as you say so James." Before walking away, still shaking his head in amusement at his older brother' crazy habits; who on earth wore their sweater inside out?

It had been a stupid thing to say, but James couldn't admit to making a mistake in front of his brother. Besides, wearing his sweater inside out made him unique, something that he always strived to achieve; being the eldest son of the famous Harry Potter meant that you had to leap at even the slightest opportunity to stand out.

Breakfast for James consisted merely of a few pieces of toast as he was far too excited to eat very much that morning. His father, he'd been told, was out making sure that all of the necessary arrangements were taken care of, so he was left with only his mother and sister for company. Lily Luna Potter was the spitting image of her mother Ginny, just as Albus was the spitting image of Harry. Her flaming red hair hung down to her shoulders, and her soft brown eyes were the exact same shade as James'. She was also eight years old, exceptionally whiney, and always seemed to get whatever she wanted from their mother.

Today, she spent the entire morning whining about how it was unfair that James got to go to Hogwarts and she didn't. "I wanna go too!" she cried, using her whiniest voice, and pleading to their mother with giant puppy-dog eyes. James snickered at his sister's pathetic whining and glanced back over at the fireplace, wondering when his father would be returning.

Their mother was more sympathetic than James to her daughter's feelings, probably because she had gone through the same thing as the youngest of seven children. "You'll be able to go soon too." she comforted the crying girl, stroking her hair lovingly and saying "And besides, you'll still have Albus to play with. And Hugo, and Rose, and all of your other cousins besides, you'll be fine Lily."

It was true Lily spent more time with Al, Hugo, and Rose than she did with James, who spent most of the time that the two were together playing jokes on his gullible younger sister. However, Lily apparently had more affection for her oldest brother than she let on, because she shrieked "NO! I WANT JAMES!"

James was spared the indignity of having to listen to the rest of his sister's tantrum by a howling sound coming from the fireplace behind them. The flames shot up, and a moment later, Harry Potter stepped from the ashes. "Daddy!" James yelled, running over and hugging his father, eager and excited as he was to be gone. "Can we go…now? Just the two of us, without the others?" James asked, not wanting to have to listen to his sister's whining while he should be enjoying himself getting his robes, and books, and above all his wand.

His father seemed to understand what James meant, as he stooped down so that he was level with his son and said "Don't worry, we're going to go as a family, and everyone's going to have a good time, OK? I promise." James was unconvinced, but he nodded at his father's words, trusting that he would take care of everything. That was what fathers did, they took care of their children's problems and made sure that they were happy; so James was sure that his dad would do everything he could to make sure that everything went well.

Entering the kitchen, Harry whispered a few words in his wife's ear before saying to Lily, who by this point had crawled underneath the table "Lil, if you cheer up and smile, I'll get you a _big_ ice-cream at Diagon Alley OK?" James rolled his eyes, who was his father kidding? Did he really think that Lily was going to stop crying over ice-cream? But apparently, James was wrong, as Lily immediately poked her teary-eyed head out from under the table and said in a small voice "The biggest size?" to which their father laughed and said "The very biggest."

* * *

><p>Once the promise of sweets had calmed Lily down, the rest of the morning went off without a hitch. Except for the moment when James' father had noticed his rather unusual style choice. "James," His father had began, "why in Merlin's name is your sweater inside out?" he asked, staring at James quizzically, as though he had never seen something so ridiculous in his life. James had been formulating an answer when Albus had decided to chime in, reporting that "James thinks he looks cool with his jumper inside out." To which his parents had enjoyed a quiet laugh before the family stepped into the fireplace.<p>

When they had arrived in Diagon Alley, James already knew everything on his supply list, and where to get all of it; the only problem was that he had no idea where to start! There were robes, spellbooks, cauldrons, potion supplies, wands, owls, and maybe even broomsticks! James thought that he could spend the entire day in Diagon Alley and never get bored.

Finally, they had resolved to go to Flourish and Blotts first to purchase James' spellbooks. Unlike the rest of Diagon Alley, the wondrous atmosphere that his impending attendance at Hogwarts did nothing to lighten the knowledge that he was going to have to do _a lot_ of reading this year.

But even for someone like James, who never read unless he was forced to, Flourish and Blotts was a wondrous sight to behold, no matter how many times he had been there. Books stacked as far and high as the eye could see, in every language and on every subject! James had spent a long time lingering over a book called Jinxes and Hexes: A Guide to Punishing Your Enemies which had filled his head with images of all the funny things that he could do to his brother once he'd learned how to properly use magic.

Much to his annoyance, his parents – who doubtless knew exactly why James would want such a thing – had adamantly prohibited James from even going near that book, and the rest of their time in Flourish and Blotts was quite dull by comparison. The most interesting part of their time there had been when it took them almost a half hour trying to find Albus when the boy had wandered off and buried his head in a copy of Quidditch Tactics and Maneuvers: The Basics.

James had a field day with this one, jabbering in his brother's ear all the way out the door, "What were you doing with that Al? Think that it could help you? I doubt even private lessons from a Pro could salvage your horrid play!" he teased, though in all fairness Albus was just as good a Quidditch Player as him.

Albus glowered at James and retorted quickly "Actually, I was trying to see if they had tips that I could pass along to you. I mean, how a scrawny git like you is gonna throw a Quaffle fast enough to get it by anyone is beyond me." Admittedly, Albus was no bigger than James, but _he_ wasn't planning on going out for the Gryffindor House Team anytime soon.

The boys had been a matter of seconds away from exchanging blows when Lily had come running up to hug James from behind declaring shrilly "James, mummy got me lots of parchment so I can write you every day!" a prospect which made James pale and Albus snigger. James loved his little sister, but not that much!

Next was the Apothecary, a shop that was terribly interesting, but even more terribly foul smelling. James had been there once before, when his father had needed to pick up a shipment for work, and the place was still just as horridly foul as it had been on that occasion so many years ago. They picked up a Pewter Cauldron for James, despite his insistence that he would instantly be the coolest kid in the entire school if his parents let him buy a solid gold one.

In retrospect, James suspected that his parents had hurried him out of there as quickly as possible so that he couldn't cause any mayhem with the ample supply of dangerous potions and ingredients there. To be honest, he was rather disappointed that he had not thought of that sooner.

Madam Malkin's was next on the list, a shop that Lily found far more interesting than James or Albus. While James was being fitted for his robes, his sister was running all over the shop looking at all the 'pretty costumes' as she called them. James found the fitting to be almost unbearable as it required him to stand completely still for almost half an hour, a prospect that for someone as antsy as James was inconceivable.

This was not lost on 'Madam Malkin' – who James was pretty sure was most certainly _not_ the woman whose name the shop still held – as the woman repeatedly whacked James' legs to get him to straighten up. James was in a sore mood by the end of this, but the woman showed no sympathy, repeatedly mumbling to herself about boys with ants in their pants, whatever that meant.

Had it not been for the fact that he knew he would not be able to go to Hogwarts without a proper set of robes, he would not have put up with it at all. But it was a necessary suffering that he knew he was just going to have to put up with.

After leaving Madam Malkin's, the Potters happened to pass by Quality Quidditch Supplies, where both James and Albus immediately rushed up to the window and pushed their noses up against the glass. In the display window they could see some of the greatest brooms in the world displayed prominently. The Firebolt, the Nimbus 2,000, and the brand new Nimbus 3,000! It was not quite as fast as last year's Firebolt Mach III, which was so expensive there wasn't even one in the display window, but it possessed exceptional maneuverability and was still a world class broomstick.

While the boys gaped at the beautifully polished wood that lay on the other side of the glass, their parents were standing behind them silently arguing about something. James could not overhear them, but he could tell that his mother was most certainly not happy about something.

When James was finally able to tear his eyes away from the broomsticks, he looked back at his parents and said "Dad, can I please, please, please, please, get a broom?" his brown eyes swimming with hope and wonder. His father did not answer, but merely looked at his mother who groaned and said "No James, we've been over this before! You're not getting a broom until you've proven to us that you can keep focused on the more important things at Hogwarts, like your grades! Maybe next year, if you study hard, you can get a broom."

Next year? That was an eternity from now! And besides, how was he going to make the House Team in his First Year like his father had if he didn't even have a respectable broomstick? But his mother was not to be persuaded, and it was with a heavy heart that James tore himself away from the display case.

"You guys are the worst!" James muttered angrily, stalking past his mum and hugging his dad in disappointment. He knew that his dad had been trying to talk his mum into letting him get a broom, and he felt cheated that she hadn't listened.

"How about this?" his father said, trying to mediate the tension that had been created when James' mother had refused to let him get a broom, "Why don't we get you an owl James? You've always said that you've wanted your own owl. And…" he continued when his wife gave him a menacing look, "James does deserve a present for starting his First Year at Hogwarts."

Eventually it was agreed upon that James would get an owl, and twenty minutes later, James was walking out of Eeylops Owl Emporium with a young Eagle Owl perched in its cage. He was so thrilled to finally have an owl of his own that he had almost forgotten his disappointment about not being able to get a broom … almost.

Still, it was with genuine excitement that James chirped "Thanks mom, thanks dad! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" practically hopping in place as they walked down Diagon Alley to their last stop, he _had_ always wanted an owl, and there was no doubt in his mind that the bird perched in his cage was the most magnificent owl in the entire world!

* * *

><p>At the end of Diagon Alley, lay a small dusty shop, but it was this shop that had so captured James' heart and imagination from the time that he was just a small boy. And it was for that reason that he had, agonizingly, left this shop for last. The peeling sign above the door read 'Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.' It was here that his father had purchased his wand all those years ago, and now James would be doing the same.<p>

Mr. Ollivander, who ran the shop, had been kidnapped by the Death Eaters during the Second Wizarding World, but had been rescued by James' father. After the War had ended, he had decided to return to his shop and sell wands once again. According to Harry, there was no other wand-maker that could possibly sell James a wand of equal quality to the one that Ollivander's could provide him with.

Ollivanders was old, very old, and James had heard that he could barely walk around his shop anymore. In fact, he had for the first time in his long career began to employ an assistant to fetch the desired wands for him, unable to make the numerous long treks around his shop anymore.

As they entered the shop, an old balding man stepped out from behind the counter and said "Oh yes, oh how I've waited for this one." His eyes travelled from James, to Harry, and then back to James. "Yes, oh yes how I've waited. Ever since I heard of his birth I have wondered when you would bring him to see me."

James was rather creeped out by this, but his father _had_ said that Mr. Ollivander was a bit of an oddball. Still, what kind of thing was that to say? It sounded more than a little bit stalkerish, and James decided that he needed to watch his step around this guy.

"Please, do step forward." He said, remaining at the counter which he was clinging to for support, looking rather shaky. James walked to the counter, and his father came with him, but his mother stayed in the back of the shop with his siblings. James didn't know why, but his parents seemed to think that this should be a moment just for the two of them.

Taking a roll of measuring tape he asked James "Which is your wand arm?" to which James immediately replied "My right." Mr. Ollivander did not reply, but began measuring James' height, arm length, waist length, distance between his nostrils, and various other random distances. As he measured he spoke "As I'm sure you know Mr. Potter, every Ollivander's wand is made from the core of a magical substance: either the Tail Feather of a Phoenix, a Unicorn Hair, or Dragon Heartstring. Just as no two Dragons, Unicorns, or Phoenixes are alike, no two wands are exactly alike either."

At this moment, Mr. Ollivander's assistant came running in, gasping "Mr. Ollivander, I'm so sorry sir I was taking some inventory. If you'll forgive me I –"

Mr. Ollivander cut him off however, "There's no need Geoffrey, I would like to do this boy on my own." He said, a strange glint in the old man's distant eyes.

"But sir," the assistant – Geoffrey – interrupted, "You're not supposed to exert yourself. If you'll just allow me."

"I will do no such thing!" Mr. Ollivander said curtly, "Now please return to the inventories, I told you I will assist this customer alone."

Geoffrey nodded, and returned to the back areas of the shop with a grumble as Mr. Ollivander concluded measuring James, who was feeling increasingly awkward.

As he finished, he tossed the measuring tape aside, and James looked back at his mother, who was sitting in a chair in the back of the shop with Albus and Lily, who smiled at him encouragingly. As he did so, Mr. Ollivander had grabbed a small box off the shelf and handed it to him saying "Let's try this: holly and phoenix feather, very much like your fathers…"

James wasn't sure if he liked the idea of having a wand like his father's, but he needn't have worried for almost the instant that James picked it up Mr. Ollivander snatched it back saying "No…no…very well then, let us try."

Mr. Ollivander plucked one wand after another off the shelves, slow and achingly as he did, but was never satisfied with the result. James looked to his father nervously, wondering if maybe there wasn't a wand out there that was right for him, but his father whispered quietly in his ear "This happens a lot James. Just be patient."

Unfortunately it was very hard to be patient as Mr. Ollivander continued laboring around the shop. At last though, he paused and looked at James with a curious eye as he said, more to himself than to James "No…it cannot be." Without another word, he turned on the spot and disappeared into the back room of the shop.

James looked at his father uncertainly, wondering what was going on but his father could only shrug. After nearly a minute had gone by, James was beginning to wonder if Mr. Ollivander was coming back, perhaps he had collapsed in the back of the shop! But just when he was about to begin to give up, the man slowly came through the door again, carrying another box with him.

"Forgive me," he wheezed, "I'd almost forgotten where I'd put it. But I never thought … that is to say, I never imagined that anyone …" Without explaining further, he handed the wand to James expectantly. "Oak, with a Phoenix Feather Core, 10 ½ Inches in length." James took the wand, not sure what to expect, but from the moment that the wand entered his hand, he felt a rush of warmth coursing through him, and a rushing of wind through the shop as a light radiated from the tip of the wand … his wand?

Mr. Ollivander stood there for a moment, almost as though in shock, his face filled with disbelief and wonder. If it were possible, he looked even older and weaker than he had just moments before. "Impossible!" he gasped, nearly collapsing against the desk as he stared at James as though just seeing him for the first time.

With his permission, Mr. Ollivander took the wand carefully from James he held it reverently in his hands "This wand has a great destiny Mr. Potter," he breathed so quietly that James had to lean close in order to hear him. "You see, many millennia ago, long before the founding of Hogwarts, there was an ancient race of magical practitioners. Their name has been lost to history, but it was they who created all of the most powerful magic and artifacts that exist in our world today. It was during this time that the alchemists lived, and items like Time Turners and the Deathly Hallows – all lost now – came into being."

This was all too much for James, the Deathly Hallows had been in many of his dad's stories, but hearing all of this was overwhelming – though he almost mentioned to Mr. Ollivander that one of the Deathly Hallows still survived. But Ollivander was not done, he cleared his throat and continued, "It was they who discovered the subtle rules of wandlore which we still follow today, and from their sacred Tree of Magic they carved seven wands of great power! Each one held a different core, the seven most powerful cores known to Wizards: a phoenix tailfeather, a dragon heartstring, the hair of a thestral, that of a demiguise, a feather from the crown of a Diricrawl, the powdered horn of a Graphorn, and the venom of a Manticore."

James shuddered at this, he was beginning to wonder whether he was going to like this story. "Well, the tree itself is gone, destroyed in the wars that wiped out the last of the old-people I'm afraid." Mr. Ollivander said, "But some of the wands crafted from it remain. But you see Mr. Potter, unlike most wands – which can change their allegiance over time – these wands bind themselves strongly to their chosen master. This wand's limits will be measured only by your own abilities Mr. Potter, and it's powers will die with you. That is why only three of the wands remain!"

James froze, was Mr. Ollivander saying what he thought he was saying? Was the wand in the old man's wrinkled hands really a relic from some long lost age, waiting for thousands of years for James to come along and claim it? Did it really hold some great power dormant within it, stored away for him to use for … but for what? For Mr. Ollivander had said that this wand had a destiny, a great one. And now surely that destiny must include him, but how?

James had never thought that he would be able to do anything to ever compare to what his father did, but if what Mr. Ollivander had said was true then this wand was offering him a chance to do exactly that. To do the kinds of things his father had done, to be the kind of hero that his father had been! But now that the opportunity was before him, one which he had no choice but to take, he was not sure if he wanted it.

It was with this conflicted sense about him that James turned to his father, lost for words. His father gave him a worried look, and then patted him once on the shoulder. "Soon." He said, offering all that James needed to know. They would talk, and then James would hopefully understand what was happening to him.

James looked over his shoulder, his mother it seemed had not noticed anything of what was going on. Albus and Lily seemed to be fighting over the last licorice wand, and James' mum was locked between them in a desperate attempt to separate her feuding children. James was now immensely grateful that she was not there with him, she probably would have gone into shock if she had heard.

At last, James returned his attention to Mr. Ollivander, who bowed deeply to James before extending the wand to him very slowly. "This wand has chosen you James Potter, and if history is anything to judge by it has done so for a reason that will reveal itself in due time."

James nodded quickly as he took his wand, eager to be gone. As he took the wand, his wand, from Mr. Ollivander he felt a rush of warmth spreading through him once again as Mr. Ollivander said "One thing is absolutely certain, a great and powerful destiny awaits you James Sirius Potter."

**Thanks again to everyone who has been reading, and PLEASE remember to REVIEW! :)**

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	4. Chapter 4: Portkeys and Promises

Chapter Four: Portkeys and Promises

As the weeks went by after the day that the Potters had gone to Diagon Alley, James had spent almost every waking moment wondering what Mr. Ollivander could possibly have meant. His father had whisked him out of the shop quickly after purchasing his wand, telling him that Mr. Ollivander was a tad bit eccentric, but for some reason James got the feeling that his father was afraid of something.

James didn't know what to do, after all his father had always been there to tell him what to do, and now even he was uncertain. Dads were never uncertain of what to do, they were always supposed to know exactly what you were supposed to do. As such, the fact that James' dad was equally lost was not exactly comforting to James.

More sternly though, his father had warned him not to breathe so much as a word of what they had been told to James' mother, something which seemed fairly obvious to James. After all, if his mother had so much as the faintest inkling that he might be getting into anything dangerous she may very well just yank him straight out of Hogwarts before he even got there!

And so, James had not been able to bring the topic up with anyone and was left only to brood in his own thoughts. He obviously could not tell his mother, he doubted his sister would understand, and his father would working around the clock to help with security preparations for the upcoming World Cup!

The one person who James wanted to tell about what had happened was his younger brother Albus, with whom he was very close despite all of his insistences to the contrary. James and Albus were the kinds of brothers who were best friends, but told everyone that they hated each other. Actually, come to think of it, they even told each other that they hated them, and oftentimes they came very close to convincing themselves that it was true.

But still, James felt that if he could just talk to Albus about it then maybe he could figure out what was going on. Albus was smart after all, he probably would know something that could help James work all of this out. Then again, considering that even his dad didn't know what to do that was an unlikely prospect at best. Still, it would have been some comfort to share this secret with someone he trusted.

But he could not tell Albus either, for his brother had been spending more and more time with their mother lately – acting very much like Lily as he whined that he didn't want James to leave without him. Once or twice James was sure he saw Albus crying, but he knew that couldn't be right, neither he nor Albus had cried for years after all – they were much too old for such nonsense.

_A great and powerful destiny awaits you._ That was what Mr. Ollivander had said, and now James was left alone to puzzle out what did could mean? The question had haunted James thoughts constantly since that day, so much so that he once again forgot about the upcoming World Cup, something which would have been almost impossible under any other circumstances.

When he was roughly shaken awake by his mother on the morning they were scheduled to leave, James pulled his pillow over his head grumbling "What time is it?" As his eyelids started to close again he suddenly remembered what day it was. "The Cup!" James exclaimed, sitting bolt upright, nearly knocking his mother over as he did so.

The family prepared as quickly as could be expected at such an early hour in the morning, and prepared to Floo over to their Grandmum's House. They were the only Wizarding family in the immediate area, and besides London was far too crowded with Muggles to arrange a Portkey. Instead, they were to Floo to the Burrow, from which they would grab a Portkey to the World Cup which was to be held in Ireland that year.

Besides, it would be easier for the large Weasley family to stick together this way, as there were a lot of them making their way to the World Cup and it might take them a while to meet up otherwise.

James never particularly liked travelling by Floo Powder, as he always ended up coated in soot and more often than not on the floor. However he had never been able to go to a World Cup before, the last one had been held when he was 7, but his parents had been unwilling to make the trip with 4-year-old Lily to look after. Albus was showing similar excitement, as both boys were staring intently at their father, waiting for him to finish getting ready.

You could not accuse the Potter children of lacking National Pride, as both boys were decked out in England National Team garb. James was wearing a Team England jersey and wore a head band at the base of his messy hair which displayed England's flag in the front. Albus was wearing a shirt bearing the team's colors with the English Flag fluttering at the lapel, and his mop of a head was covered with a hat that bore the names of the English players. Lily on the other hand was wearing the jersey that their mother, Ginny Potter, had worn when she led England to its last World Cup Victory in 2000.

Lily, the youngest of the Potter children, was only 8 years old and yet she was already starting to look like a very good Quidditch Player. Of course, what with James and Albus desperately trying to drag anyone with two arms into the air with them, it probably would have been impossible for her not to be. Still, their dad had done everything within his power to stop their attempts to involve Lily in their games.

Though both James and Albus had been flying since their first birthday, at which age they had both received their first toy broomsticks – which skimmed just a few inches off the ground – Lily had not so much as touched a broomstick until she was more than five, and even then it was behind their father's back.

Their dad had always said that he didn't want his little girl doing something so dangerous, a comment which was always met with a fiery response from their mother that he was being maddeningly sexist.

For some reason, their dad had never responded to that.

Finally, after what seemed like an age, their father straightened up and slung his pack over his shoulder saying "Alright, we're good to go. Ginny why don't you go first with Lily, that way she doesn't get lost at the wrong gate." Lily was still too young to go through the Floo Network unattended, as she was only 8 years old. Besides, she was afraid to go anywhere on her own in any event. There was a swirl of flame as Lily disappeared with his mum, and James swallowed nervously.

Trying not to appear apprehensive, James took a handful of Floo Powder and stepped into the fireplace. Looking nervously at the chimney above him, and trying not to think about how small it looked – even compared to his scrawny frame – James tossed the Powder downwards and cried "The Burrow!"

The incredibly uncomfortable sensation that accompanied any trip by Floo Powder gripped him as he was sucked up into the Chimney and swirled through the chaos of the Floo Network. For a moment it felt as though he was going to be bouncing around the various fireplaces of the Wizarding World forever, but at long last he slid out the grate at his Grandparents' home, and it was over.

The worst part about travelling by Floo Powder, as far as James was concerned, was not the journey itself – though that was bad enough – it was the agonizing process of trying to get yourself clean again afterwards. It wasn't as though James was a priss who couldn't stand a bit of dirt, but he didn't like having his cheeks caked with grime and soot all day long.

Coughing up soot, he looked up at his mother, who was staring down at him and shaking her head at his clumsiness. Amazingly enough, this was a pretty successful trip by James' standards, usually he managed to break something on the way out. Bearing this in mind, James grinned sheepishly and said "Hey mum, I didn't get lost this time."

* * *

><p>It was quite a sight to behold, the group of them climbing up the hill to where their Portkey was waiting. There were twenty of them in all: James, Albus, Lily, and their parents along with James' Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione and their two children, Rose and Hugo. Rose was the same age as Albus, and the pair got along very well. Rose looked very much like her mother, except that the long bushy hair which hung casually over her shoulders was flaming red.<p>

Hugo, on the other hand, looked more like his father, though perhaps without quite so many freckles. Then there was Uncle George and Aunt Angelina, along with their kids Fred and Roxanne, both of whom had flaming red hair, and enjoyed nothing more than joining James in his many escapades and pranks – though admittedly Roxanne was somewhat more withdrawn at times, as she was only seven years old.

Behind them walked James' Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur, whose part-Veela children Victoire, Dominique, and Louis were already fawned over despite their (apart from Victoire) tender ages. With their picture-perfect blonde hair billowing behind them they could just as well be a picture as real people. Dominique was one year older than James and had been Sorted into Ravenclaw the year before. Louis was just a year younger than Albus and Rose, but seemed to enjoy hanging out with him more than anyone else.

Beside Victoire walked Teddy Lupin, James' favorite person in the entire world, who would be starting his 7th Year at Hogwarts in the fall and whose hair was currently a pleasant shade of blue. Bringing up the rear was James' quirky single Uncle Charlie, who James rarely saw because he was too caught up in his work with Dragons. When James had asked his mum why Uncle Charlie didn't have a family, she had only told him that his Uncle Charlie 'found dragons more interesting than women', which he wasn't sure was an honest answer or not.

It was astonishing that the lot of them had all managed to get tickets, but then again the Potter-Weasley family was rather special in the Magical World. It had taken only minutes from the time that their father had contacted the Department of Magical Games and Sports before he had eagerly been supplied with a V.I.P. Box for the entire family. Only James' grandparents – due to their inability to spend so long in tents in their advanced age – and his Uncle Percy's family – because of their lack of interest in Quidditch – were absent.

When they reached the top of the hill, James and Albus were still arguing about who was going to get to bunk with Teddy Lupin. Teddy, who was essentially an older brother to the Potters, was easily the biggest idol of both boys, and so the honor of bunking with him was well worth an indignant fight to the death! "I'm the oldest, so I get to room with him!" James said, as though that settled everything.

Albus though, was not so convinced that James' mere one-year-seniority worked as a get-whatever-I-want-card, as he shot back "Yea, well Teddy likes me best, so he's gonna bunk with me. That's OK though, you can bunk with Lily." He said, laughing at the thought of his brother and sister sharing a room. If the two managed to make it through the night without killing each other, he'd have been shocked.

They were still bickering in this matter when their father emerged from the top of the hillock and shouted down, "Oi you lot! Hurry up, we've found it!" James and Albus immediately fell silent and rushed up the hill with the rest of the party to where his father had beckoned them all to. To James, it looked like his father was just holding a rusty old tin can, but somehow his father knew that it was the Portkey that they were looking for. He would have to ask him how that was done someday.

The group gathered around the Portkey, which was more difficult than one would imagine considering that there were so many of them. Finally, after some jostling and shoving, everyone had a grip on at least a piece of the Portkey, with plenty of time to spare. "Just a few more seconds now, and we'll be off." Harry said, checking the watch that had once belonged to Fabian Prewitt. A few moments later, the can began to glow blue, and James braced himself for the Portkey's transporting, a sensation which he did not find much more pleasant than travelling by Floo Powder.

Less than a second after this thought had entered James' head the Portkey began to glow bright blue, and James felt a hook beneath him lifting upwards and propelling them all through the air. The world around him swirled and shook as the two-dozen people gathered around the Portkey all struggled to keep themselves from being flung off. In retrospect, Portkeys were a rather dangerous method of travel, but there was simply no other reliable method of magical transport over such vast distances.

Finally, the ground rushed up to meet them, and the family crashed into the grassy plain below, now somewhere in an unpopulated region of Southern Ireland. The whole thing had taken months to set up, and even the Auror division had been involved in some capacity, as James could remember his father complaining about the complications involved in organizing the massive project that was the Quidditch World Cup.

"Ten o' clock from Ottery St. Catchpole." Said a bored disinterested voice as James began to get up and dust himself off. "You'd think there'd be an easier way than this to travel." Teddy Lupin grumbled as he got to his feet beside James. His words were met with grumbles of agreement from the rest of the family who slowly rose up off the ground and set off towards the campsite.

The grumbles were not the only thing that could be heard, as Hugo was on his hands and knees kissing the ground beneath them saying "Thank Merlin, land! Sweet sweet solid ground beneath my feet!"

"Does anyone else reckon we ought to get him tested?" James asked with a grin, eliciting laughs from his cousins, but stern looks of warning from all of the adults present.

Still, James was quite proud of himself for his little joke, and besides even Hugo himself was laughing! More importantly though, Teddy Lupin had given James a proud nod, as though saying that he was on the right track to being a great prankster like himself – which was the best thing that James could possibly have heard at the moment!

* * *

><p>It took them only a matter of minutes to reach their campsite, during which time they were assaulted by crowds of people who recognized James' father. Some of them must have been friends of his, as he paused often to talk to them, but most were just random Witches and Wizards who wanted to get a chance to talk to the infamous 'Boy Who Lived'!<p>

James had always found times like these tedious in the extreme, not to mention very confusing. He did not get why people wanted to talk to his dad so much, yea he had done some pretty cool crap a really long to time ago, but nowadays he was probably one of the most boring human beings on the face of the planet!

James was always hoping that one day his father would turn back into the amazing person of all of his stories, the person who had saved the Wizarding World on a weekly basis, and got into trouble like it was nothing! But he was always severely disappointed, as his father was still the same rather boring dad that he had always been. It got even worse when James had to explain it to kids his own age, all of whom thought that he was incredibly lucky to have such cool parents.

It was hard to attempt to simultaneously explain that your parents were not half as interesting as everyone thought that they were, and that they were in fact just as dull and boring as the parents of the kids who were speaking to him. It was like they expected his parents just let him do whatever he wanted solely because they were famous or something.

Of course, along with the weirdos and strangers, were many people to whom James and Albus had been introduced over the years, old school friends and coworkers and the like. People like Mr. Thomas, whose daughter Melinda was just a year older than James, or a woman by the name of Mrs. Smith whom James' father referred to as 'Parvarti' and whom he seemed rather embarrassed whenever he spoke to her. James didn't remember the story exactly right, but from what he recalled his dad hadn't been very nice to Mrs. Smith. Though her son Hayden seemed alright to James, he was a pretty cool bloke and was on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team too!

When finally they reached their assigned campsites, James helped his father unpack the four tents in which the family would be staying, and offered to try his hand at setting them up magically. Unfortunately, his attempt to practice magic was shot down by his father, who insisted that he would have to wait until he went to Hogwarts to start using magic.

So James was forced to watch on with bitter longing as his father, his Uncle Ron, his Uncle Bill, and Teddy erected the tents with casual flicks of their wands. How James longed for the day when he would be able to do that too, just flick his wand and have his desires come to be! He could barely even comprehend how awesome it was going to be when he could do things like that, though admittedly his usage of magic was probably going to be more destructive.

James' jealousy was noted by Teddy, who smiled encouragingly at James and said "It's only going to be a few more weeks, and then you'll be able to use magic too … at Hogwarts that is." Though upon saying this he noticed that a devious glint had appeared in James' eyes after he said this, and so he asked rather cautiously "Right James, only at Hogwarts?"

James only laughed like an evil madman and rubbed his hands together as though he were plotting something truly horrific as he walked away from Teddy. Of course James had no intention of using magic outside of school until he was seventeen years of age. His father had told him all about The Trace, and what the Ministry of Magic would do if you tried to use magic before you were 17, but it was still fun to freak Teddy out – it made him feel just a little bit better about having to wait himself.

Of course, James knew that Teddy was right, but he had been waiting to be able to use magic for as long as he could possibly remember! And now he could feel the power contained in the thin stick of wood in his pocket radiating outwards towards him, enticing him with promises of fantastic magical adventures, and he had to fight the urge to whip it out and begin casting whatever simple spells he could work out on his own.

* * *

><p>The Potter-Weasley clan spent the remainder of the day around the campsite, rife with anticipation for the Match that would take place the very next day. The adults sat in one circle, talking about previous World Cup Matches, and whether England had a shot at beating the favored Italian Team. The children on the other hand, sat in a circle of their own some ways off, buzzing with excitement about their first trip to the World Cup (Teddy and Victoire excepted, for whom this was their second) and how they were going to celebrate <em>when<em> England inevitably beat Italy.

"Guys, you're not giving Italy enough credit." Teddy insisted, "They're a good team alright, they wouldn't be here if they weren't, and they've got just as good a chance at winning this thing as England! I want England to win just as much as you guys do, but let's not jump on the bandwagon too quickly, so to speak."

James, however, was having none of it – though whether he was actually thinking logically or just getting wrapped up in his nationalistic fervor remained to be seen. "Italy's pathetic!" he insisted, "They got through because of luck, England's got twice their talent!" The circle then dissolved into a series of smaller arguments over player abilities and team strengths and weaknesses, most of which were based on team-loyalties and personal opinions rather than actual fact.

Though united in their love of the English National Team, the cousins assembled had very different ideas of which British Circuit Club was the best out there, and the fact that several players on both the English and Italian National Teams played in that circuit only increased the partisan nature of their arguments.

"You guys are all forgetting where the team needs to have its best players!" Fred said with confidence, "It doesn't matter if Italy has the better Chasers" which had been pointed out many times before "Because England's Beaters are going to pound the living daylights out of them!"

This was another problem which lead to dispute and bias in this argument. Of course, each and every one of them thought that their position was by far the most important. Whilst Italy had the better Chasers, England had a pair of top notch Beaters and arguably the best Keeper to play in the World Cup in several decades! He was the only person left who had been playing when England had last won the Cup in 2000, so he was downright ancient by now, but he was still stellar!

Both teams were pretty level when it came to their Seekers, but seeing as Louis was a bit preoccupied at the moment trying to wrestle Hugo to the ground, that position went largely uncontested. As it happened, Roxanne would have a penchant for Seeking herself, but none of them knew that just yet.

Even though this meant that he had to argue against England's' chances though, James could not allow Fred to think that he had the most important position, and so he quickly shot back "Oh please, everyone knows that Chasers are the most important players on the Pitch!"

Fred had barely enough time to open his mouth before he was overpowered by loud shouts of agreement from Teddy, Rose, Lily, and Albus – all of whom played Chaser as well. Knowing that he was not going to win with five of his cousins united against him, Fred decided that he would be better off just letting the matter rest.

James allowed himself a grin of satisfaction when Fred did not bother to argue, thinking to himself that Fred must have accepted the inevitability that no matter how good he was he would never be as crucial to the team's success as a Chaser was! After all, everyone knew that without a solid lineup of Chasers to set the tone of the Match by scoring those big goals at the important moments then neither the Beaters nor the Seekers would be able to do their jobs effectively.

It occurred to James that there was going to be a problem in a few years when Rose, Albus, Lily, and himself were all vying for three spots on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. Of course, in his head, it was a foregone conclusion that they would all be in Gryffindor and that they would all be going out for the team. If he had to be honest, he would say that Lily would be the one who didn't make the cut. She just was not big enough to play in such a violent and aggression-driven sport as Quidditch – not yet anyways.

* * *

><p>Long after the sun had dipped below the horizon, the family went to pack it in for the night in their respective tents. James' parents, along with his Aunts and Uncles, split themselves between the first two tents, taking all of five seconds to do so. That left the 11 children to the much more lengthy process of fighting over who got to sleep in which tent.<p>

It didn't take too long to decide that the five girls would take one tent, and the six boys would sleep in the other. However, when the six young boys entered their tent, that was where things stopped being so simple and easy. Of course, when you threw six little kids into a tent and told them to figure out who was sleeping with who, you had to expect that some fights were going to break out.

Hugo and Fred immediately rushed off to one of the tent's three bedrooms before anyone could try and separate the two of them. Though Hugo was two years younger than Fred the two of them were nigh inseparable. As they raced out of the sitting area, they left James and Albus to fight over who was going to get to bunk with Teddy.

Poor Louis, the half-Veela child who was used to everyone fighting over him, was not accustomed to being ignored in favor of someone else, and the 9 year old boy's eyes began to swim with tears when James and Albus began shouting. "I'm sleeping with Teddy, not you! You can sleep with Louis!"

After about three minutes of this, Teddy grew fed up with this and said "Alright enough! When you two decide to act your age and quit arguing you two can bunk together, I'm rooming with Louis so that I can actually get some sleep tonight." Rolling his eyes at the two brother's senseless bickering, he gestured for Louis to follow him and went into the second bedroom, slamming the door behind them.

That left James and Albus standing alone the tent's common area, both glaring at the other in anger and disgust. In the minds of both boys, the other had robbed him of a chance to spend quality time that he rightfully deserved with his Godbrother, and neither was willing to concede that they had acted 'immature' as Teddy had suggested.

This standoff would have gone on for some time, and probably would have resulted in a fair bit of violence between the two brothers had it not been for the impending Quidditch World Cup Final the next morning. And as much as they both wanted to get what they viewed as their well-deserved revenge, they did not want to risk being tired for such an important day!

And so James finally rolled his eyes and said "Whatever Al, let's just get some sleep. I don't want to pass out midway through the Match." before heading over to the last room and throwing himself onto the first bed in frustration and going to sleep. He was so tired and frustrated that he did not even bother to change into his PJs, though this was not too unusual for James.

Albus followed his other brother into the room a few moments later and rolled onto the second bed, thinking how unfair it was that he wasn't going to be able to spend some time with his Godbrother. He deserved it, James and Teddy were leaving for Hogwarts soon…and they would be together all year there, but Albus was going to be left behind.

_Then again,_ he thought, as he glanced at his brother's silently snoozing form in the bed across from him, _maybe I'd be better off trying to spend more time with James before he leaves_.

Though neither boy was willing to admit it, they were both wondering what was going to happen when James finally left for Hogwarts in September. After all, the longest that either of them had ever been apart had been that time that Albus had spent the weekend with their grandparents while James was sick. After one day Albus had missed his older brother so much that he had come home anyways – being sick wasn't as bad as sitting around with nothing to do.

Even in times like this, when they had come half an inch from trying to kill each other, the brothers still took some small comfort in the fact that the other was so close by. James usually had trouble falling asleep when there was someone else in the room, even if it was his mum, but with Albus – even an Albus who may very well want to kill him in his sleep – he had fallen asleep effortlessly.

For weeks James' nights had been filled with dreams about Hogwarts, the endless corridors and tall towers which housed thousands of opportunities for adventures the like of which he could scarcely imagine! Adventures that lead him across the Castle in search of new ways to prove his worth as a great prankster like both of his namesakes!

But tonight he didn't dream about any of those things, in fact the spires of Hogwarts Castle were absent from his dreams for the first time in ages! Instead he had a very strange dream, though one which he had completely forgotten by breakfast the next morning.

He was getting off the Hogwarts Express, returning to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters after a successful year at Hogwarts which had seen him win the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor and pull off the most amazing prank that Hogwarts had ever seen! But when he stepped off the train and looked for his family, he noticed that there was no one there … the platform was empty.

No parents, no Albus, not even any other students … he was alone.

**Thanks again so much to everyone who has been following me, and remember to REVIEW!**


	5. Chapter 5: The Quidditch World Cup

Chapter Five: The Quidditch World Cup

Day broke on the morning of the 427th Quidditch World Cup bright and sunny, perfect weather for a game of Quidditch, though the Match had been known to take place in stormy weather in the past. James and Albus did not speak as they woke, dressing in absolute silence as they consciously made sure not to so much as look at the other boy. The tension was palpable as the two virtually identical boys pulled on similarly identical sets of clothes.

At last, at almost the same second, both boys finished dressing and went out to the Common Area to meet up with the rest of the boys. Hopefully they would be able to stay away from the other one with all of their other cousins around to distract them. However, before they reached the rest of the group, Teddy Lupin pulled them aside.

Both boys looked excited at first, thinking that Teddy was about to tell them something really cool or exciting as he normally did, like that he had found a way for them to sneak into the locker room to meet the English National Team. But the gaze which Teddy Lupin had fixed upon them was neither excited nor mischievous, it was angry and perhaps even a tad bit disappointed.

"Listen guys, you really upset Louis last night." Teddy said, looking at the two boys neither scolding nor judging them, but simply stating a fact – though the fire in his eyes told them all they needed to know. "Now you two need to stop acting like a bunch of five year olds before your parents see you doing something like what you did last night."

That was all, no yelling, no 'I'm gonna tell your parents', Teddy just stated his point and nothing more, and that was why James and Albus had so much respect for Teddy. He didn't need to be a snitch, or a mini-adult to get his point across, he did it solely by the authority of his own words. Of course, the fact that he was Teddy Lupin and they were James and Albus Potter might have helped things. The boys would have jumped off a bridge if Teddy told them that it was a good idea, they idolized him that much!

James and Albus exchanged glances but said nothing, as much as they idolized Teddy they were loathe to ever admit that they were wrong – even to him! Knowing this, Teddy sighed and walked away, leaving the two brothers standing alone in the tent with no way to avoid the awkward silence that had hung between them since their argument the night before. Finally, it was James who broke the silence.

As much as he hated to ever admit that he had done wrong by Albus, James knew that Teddy was right – partially at least because he was Teddy Lupin. But even had it not been for Teddy, James hated it when Albus was _this_ angry with him, and he wanted to be able to enjoy the Quidditch Match without having to pretend that he was still angry at him.

"I reckon that you can bunk with Teddy tonight it you wanna." James said quietly, knowing that it was the right thing to do no matter how much he didn't want to do it. "I know that you're gonna miss him a lot more than you're going to miss me." James said, "So I guess it's only fair that you get to spend some time with him before he leaves." James at least would be able to see Teddy around Gryffindor Common Room – as James had no doubt that he would indeed be a Gryffindor – but Albus was not going to be able to see him again until June.

Albus had made it quite clear that he was completely fine with the fact that James would be gone for the next ten months, so why should James force Albus to endure his presence for any longer than he had to whilst he really just wanted to spend more time with Teddy.

Almost the moment that James had began talking Albus rolled his eyes at his brother's words, wondering whether he brother was just trying to be overly dramatic, or if was he really that stupid?

"Of course I'm not going to miss Teddy more than I'll miss you." Albus said rather forcefully, shocking James right out of his wonderings about whether Albus would even care that he was gone. "You're my brother James, nothing is going to change that." Albus added a moment later, though by this time his voice had lost some of its strength.

James looked at Albus with an expression of the utmost interest before shaking his head and saying "Yea right, you always say how you can't wait for me to get out of here so that you can finally have a moment of peace." James pointed out, still feeling very slighted by this whole affair, though he was not entirely sure why.

"Well, yea it'd be nice if you were a little nicer to me from time to time." Albus said, looking at James hopefully, though he knew that this was more than just a tad bit unlikely. Besides, Albus could be just as bad as James when he wanted to be, so it wasn't like this was a one way street that they were talking about.

James said nothing, looking at Albus for a moment in his attempt to figure out whether or not to believe what his brother had said. In the end though, James could almost always tell whether Albus was lying – it came from the brothers spending so much time together over the years – and this was not one of those times.

So Albus really was going to miss him? He actually did care that James was not going to be there for months and months at a time? For the first time, James remembered the dream that he had so frightened him the night before, but now the train Platform was not deserted at all … his family was all there amidst the huge crowd … waiting to welcome him home.

At last, confident that he finally understood, James laughed and punched his brother playfully on the shoulder. "We'll see." He said finally.

Maybe he and Albus did not get along perfectly all of the time, but he knew now without a doubt that they would definitely miss each other while he was at Hogwarts. You couldn't just cast aside ten years of such constant companionship – even if they spent at least ninety-five percent of that time trying to kill each other.

Besides, it was only one year.

* * *

><p>There was no sport in the world that could even remotely compare to Quidditch. There was no other sport that so completely captured the attention of any group of people the way that the Wizarding World was so engrossed in Quidditch. The way that it captured all of their hearts, enthralled their imaginations, and united them as a people, could not be matched by any other sport in the world, whether wizard or muggle in nature.<p>

Though all very young, the Weasley cousins – as even James, Albus, and Lily referred to themselves – were all the perfect example of this. Virtually each and every one of them lived and breathed Quidditch, and there was no doubt between them that this was going to be the most exciting day of their lives!

"This is it!" James said excitedly, as the rather large group made their way down to the Pitch. James was always prone to getting over-excited about small and inconsequential things, so something as major as seeing his home country battle for the Quidditch World Cup was enough to completely send him through the roof. After all, nothing was more important that Quidditch! If you asked James, Quidditch would be a perfectly acceptable method for solving all global disputes – it would most certainly be less destructive than a war.

"We're going right?" he asked his father for the thousandth time, as though they could actually be heading anywhere else. For some reason, James seemed to have been struck with an inexplicable fear that they would not be able to get onto the Pitch, or else that the whole thing would turn out to have been an elaborate joke designed to get his hopes up for nothing!

James' father did not answer his son, but instead told him very sternly, "Now listen to me James." and James did so instantly. Had he heard those words from his mother he likely would have tuned her out almost immediately as it was usually something stupid or boring. But when James' father used those words he always had something very important to say, and so James had little choice but to pay attention.

"There are going to be some other families in our Box with kids the same age as you." His father began, and James groaned with the realization of where his father was going with this. His father was always saying that he should make friends aside from his cousins, and in fact had practically shoved him at other kids at times. James didn't care though, he would make other friends when he was good and ready. For now though, Albus and Fred were his best friends.

"Now I know these people and you could make some friends before going to Hogwarts if you can keep yourself from acting like a complete fool." His father concluded, though by now he had lost some of his steam as he noticed that he had lost his audience long ago.

For James was no longer listening to his father, as he was too busy discussing England's chances with his brother again. "No Al!" he exclaimed, as his father shook his head in exasperation and walked forward to rejoin the rest of the adults "You're still not giving Wood enough credit! He's the better Keeper by a country mile, and that makes a huge difference!"

Albus did not share his brother's enthusiastic backing of England's Keeper however, as he replied "Yea, but he'd so _old_ he's probably not as quick as he used to be! I mean, he went to school with dad!" Albus exclaimed, as if that made someone positively ancient. Of course, it was true that anyone old enough to have gone to school with Harry Potter had to be positively ancient as James' father was … well, he wasn't entirely sure how old his father was – he knew he was thirty something, but suffice it to say that he was quite old.

"Yea well, he can't be that much older than mum, and she can still fly a fair sight better than you!" James pointed out, eliciting a sharp demand from his mother of "Excuse me!" as she overheard her sons talking about her age in a rather negative fashion.

"Nothing mum." Both boys chorused innocently, though Ginny Potter was far from fooled.

* * *

><p>The boys' arguing continued all the way up to the Box, with Teddy Hugo and Fred occasionally giving their opinion on the matter, which was quite a ways considering that theirs was one of the uppermost Boxes in the Pitch. When finally they reached the Box, all of the boys fell silent as their gaze came to rest upon the Pitch before them. From where they stood, they could see the entire Arena, and it was absolutely <em>enormous<em>! They had heard that it could hold over 100,000 people, but they had not been able to picture something so big up until now.

"Bloody hell!" Hugo exclaimed, "This thing is huge! How on earth did they build something so big so quickly?"

"With their toothbrushes, how do you think Hugh?" James asked with a roll of his eyes. Sure the place was impressive, but when you had thousands of witches and wizards dedicated to one project for months it was not hard to pull off a feat such as this he was certain.

All around the Pitch they could hear the excited shouting of over a hundred thousand fans, all of whom were waiting breathlessly for the start of the game. Finally, James was interrupted from his observations of the Pitch by the entrance of five more people into the box. At first his gaze rested on the parents, both of whom he could have sworn he'd seen somewhere at the Ministry before, but he quickly passed over them until he saw the three children following them.

The first one could not have been older than six or seven years old, and a pair of hard brown eyes poked out from beneath his short blonde hair as he fretfully held his mother's hand. The excitement in his eyes was evident, but from the way that he was clinging to his mother like a lifeline it was clear that he was also quite terrified by what was going on. Most likely it was the crowds, James knew that he had never been one for crowds when he was little.

The daughter – who looked about two years younger than James – had long brown hair that was tied back in a ponytail, and soft brown eyes that could melt her parent's hearts. James thought that she looked like an innocent enough kid, but having grown up with Lily as a sister made him immediately skeptical that there was more to this girl than met the eye. Still, he might have just been being a tad bit paranoid.

Their third child, a son, was probably the same age as James, and his sharp blue eyes darted around the Box from underneath his shaggy blonde hair. His eyes darted around the many faces in the Box before finally coming to rest on James. The two stared at each other for a moment, and then both looked away, knowing that the other boy had noticed them staring.

James knew immediately who they must be, this must be the family that his father had told him about. They would be joining them in their box as his father's way of thanking the other man for something or another. If James had understood the conversation he had overheard it had something to do with aid in the field, but he wasn't entirely sure on that note.

James' father dragged him over to the front of the Box, where the rest of his family was already waiting. His father was obsessive over politeness and introductions, which James found unbearably boring. Still, it would be nice to know more about this boy … whoever he might be, he was going to need some friends when he went to Hogwarts.

"Kids, I'd like you to meet Mr. and Mrs. Knight, they are very close friends of mine from work, got me out of a bit of a tough spot a few weeks back." He added, grinning at Mr. Knight who laughed and replied "I'd think more than just one time Harry."

James' father just laughed and said "Be that as it may; Steve, Christina these are my kids: James, Albus, and Lily." After shaking hands with the kindly old couple, James looked impatiently back up at his father, waiting for him to finish with the introductions. "James this is Andrew, he's starting Hogwarts in the Fall as well. And Julie is the same age as you are Albus." Mr. Knight said, introducing the children to each other. "And this little guy here is Julian." He said, rustling the perfectly-combed hair of his youngest child who groaned and began straightening it again.

James snorted with laughter at this, and beside him he noticed that Albus was holding back laughter as well, but within seconds their father squeezed both of their shoulders very firmly and they stopped laughing. They knew that they were skating on thin ice as it was, and neither of them wanted to be sent home early for something as stupid as this.

After a long and tedious series of introductions to other important Ministry people and his father's co-workers, James and Albus at last found their opportunity to slip aside when their parents went to greet Kingsley Shacklebot – the Minister of Magic – who was an old friend of theirs. As they slipped away quietly, they motioned for Andrew and Julie Knight to follow them, reasoning at least that they would get in less trouble if they brought them along.

Despite all of his insistences to the contrary, James had been worried about not having any friends when he went to Hogwarts, so the possibility of there already being someone his own age that he knew once he got there was something that he wanted to make sure happened. He had made plenty of friends over the years, but he had fallen out with most of them over the past year due to his increasingly powerful habit of pranking his friends on a daily basis.

After a while, he had realized that this was not the best idea and had decided that it would be best to reserve his pranking for people he didn't like – and Albus of course – but by this time he had wound up more or less alone except for his cousins. Not at he minded all that much, he had never been all that close to any of those kids anyways. For the most part he suspected that they had been more interested in his dad than in him.

"So, you're Andrew?" James asked awkwardly, not really sure how to initiate a conversation; a feeling evidently shared by Andrew who merely nodded and stuffed his hands into his pockets. Glancing over his shoulder, James scowled to see that his brother was already seated next to Julie Knight and the two were already engaged in an animated conversation. His brother had always been a better conversationalist than he was.

He had always meant to ask Albus about that skill, but he had never gotten around to actually doing it. Asking your younger brother for help with something was the height of lameness, and so James would never allow himself to be caught doing something like that!

Still, he had to do something. The silence was stretching on for longer and longer, and meanwhile it looked like Albus and Julie were minutes away from declaring themselves the best of friends. This shouldn't be that hard, there had to be _something_ that they could talk about.

Angry that his younger brother was having an easier time socializing and making friends than he was, James scrambled for something to talk about with the other boy. Finally, James gestured to the Pitch and asked "So, what do you think of England's chances?" It was the most obvious way to go with the conversation, and not exactly very original, but it was still the only thing that he could come up with at the time.

Apparently though, James had found the perfect conversation topic, as the other boy's eyes light up with the same excitement that James' normally held at the mention of said topic. "Oh it's in the bag!" Andrew said, with exactly the same tone of confidence that James had been proclaiming England's sure-fire victory a few hours earlier.

"England's got better players at every position; I don't know why they haven't engraved their names on the trophy already." Andrew continued, at which James' jaw dropped, this kid sounded exactly like him! Maybe this whole thing was going to be a lot easier than he thought.

* * *

><p>Less than five minutes later, James and Andrew had settled into their seats and were loudly discussing England's chances in the upcoming Match. After a few minutes had gone by they had run out of Quidditch related subjects to discuss and the conversation had changed to Hogwarts and Houses<p>

"Yea, both of my parents were in Ravenclaw." Andrew explained, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that his parents were not within earshot before adding "But to be honest I don't think there's a chance in hell that I end up there."

"I hear you on that." James said, perhaps misunderstanding Andrew's meaning. "Better a Badger than a good for nothing bookworm." James was honestly not sure if he would rather be a Ravenclaw or a Slytherin if it came down to it, but then both choices were so bad that he may as well just pack his bags if it came down to it.

"Well, yea." Andrew said with a bit of a grin, "But I meant that I really don't know where I'm gonna go, you know? Like, I'm kinda nervous about it to be honest." He did indeed look rather skittish at the prospect, though for all James knew Andrew could just be like that all of the time – they had not really known each other for all that long.

"Yea, I guess that makes sense." said James, who understood Andrew's predicament even if he could not quite empathize with it. There had never been much doubt in James' head as to which House he would find himself in. After all, his entire family had been in Gryffindor as far back as he had ever been able to find.

"Yea well, I can't imagine that you're worried." Andrew said with a shallow grin, as though he had read James' mind. Still, it wasn't that hard to figure out if you knew anything about James' family – which virtually every young witch and wizard in all of Great Britain did.

James grinned back and said cockily "Never any doubt mate, Gryffindor all the way!" Though if he was being perfectly honest with himself there was still the tiniest of nagging doubts in the back of his head. Still, compared to what most students were probably feeling he figured that he was pretty well off.

"Yea well, you keen on sharing any inside info on the Castle Mr. Gryffindor?" Andrew asked, probably thinking that James must have heard all kinds of cool stories from his father about what was waiting hidden within the Castle. Of course, he was completely right, but James was not sure what he wanted to tell a boy he had only just met.

"Sorry kid, that knowledge is for Gryffindors only." James said with a grin as Andrew protested loudly.

"Oh come on, just tell me!" he demanded, though it was clear from his expression that he found this just as amusing as James did.

"No can do Andrew, you could be a Snake for all I know." James gave him a look of great fear as he suggested this, but then said in what he felt was a very fair compromise "Tell you what, you get sorted into Gryffindor and I'll tell you everything I know."

James expected Andrew to immediately agree to these terms and begin filling his head with brave and heroic thoughts to improve his chances of being sorted into Gryffindor, but instead he merely shrugged and James and said "We'll see."

They talked about Hogwarts for the next hour, but then fell silent along with the rest of the Pitch as the two teams took to the Pitch. James and Albus leapt up in their seats and cheered boisterously as England's team flew out onto the Pitch. All around the Pitch, partisans of both sides were cheering and booing the respective National Clubs. The Italian Team took to the Pitch a few minutes later, and the cheering and booing reversed pace.

The English Team was lead by none other than Oliver Wood, the last holdover from the English squad which had won the World Cup in 2000, whilst the Italians were Captained by Louis Marino, one of the best Seekers that the European circuit had seen in quite some time.

* * *

><p>It was Quidditch the likes of which James had never seen before, the action was faster, quicker, and more brutal than any that James had ever seen in his entire life. The players were no more than red and white blurs as they sped around the pitch on their brooms at unbelievable speeds. James had never even reached speeds half as fast on his Uncles' brooms when he 'borrowed' them to go practice in the hedgerows behind the Burrow.<p>

The pace was incredible, the Quaffle was changing hands so fast that James could barely follow its path back and forth. Indeed for one moment James had thought that and English player had gained a clear breakaway against the Italian Keeper, only to realize that she had been stripped of the Quaffle moments before.

"Adams passes back to Blake," the commentator shouted – his voice magically amplified to sound throughout the entire Pitch – looking as though he were ready to collapse from the constant shouting. "Blake with a shot, HE SCORES!"

James leapt to his feet and cheered, along with the rest of the English supporters in the Pitch. England's scoring chances had been few and far between in the opening minutes, and they were going to need to capitalize on each and every one.

It was 70-100 Italy, and the game was much closer than James and Andrew would have thought before the game had started. Despite their assertions that England would have no problem disposing of the inferior Italian squad, the English Team was slowly collapsing. The only thing that was keeping them in the game was the remarkable play of English Keeper Oliver Wood – who was playing like a man possessed! The Italians were firing more than twice as many shots at him than the English Team was throwing at the other end, but Wood was holding down the fort as he had been all tournament long.

James could not believe the remarkable display that Oliver Wood was putting on for England, sacrificing every inch of his body without hesitation to keep the Quaffle out of the hoops behind him. His father had told him that Oliver Wood was the best Keeper that he had ever seen, but James had assumed that this had been back in their school days.

If Oliver Wood was this good of a Keeper as an old man, James couldn't even begin to imagine what he must have been like in his prime!

"ANOTHER REMARKABLE SAVE BY WOOD!" came the shout as the English Keeper sent aside a brilliant shot by the Italian Chaser Mario Durando. The score could easily have been 400-70 by this point if it were not for Oliver Wood, and he raised one glove to acknowledge the crowd as they roared their approval. Through his Omnioculars though, James could see that the Keeper's focus had not wavered an inch. He did not care for the applause directed his way, he cared only about the ultimate victory!

The game progressed onwards with Wood's incredible prowess between the goal hoops continuing to be the talk of the Match. There was little doubt that if England managed to win the Cup that they would have to erect a statue in Wood's honor, for without him there was no way that they would still be in contention by this point. The children gathered in the V.I.P. Box were locked in a state of petrified tension. England could not possibly lose! And yet the momentum was most certainly not in their favor at the moment.

James shot a look back at his father, and he too seemed to be unable to so much as move an inch, indeed this seemed to be the rule throughout the Pitch as not so much as a single cheer or boo was heard when an English Beater knocked one of the Italian Chasers right off his broomstick – though at this point James had no idea which two players had been involved, everything was moving too fast!

Everyone had told James not to expect a very long Match, as England and Italy were going to wear each other out quickly and the Seekers would soon be left to their own devices by the Beaters – a scenario that could only end with a quick capture of the Snitch – and yet the Match had been going on for over seven hours now! Amazingly the Beaters on both sides were still pounding the Bludgers about with terrible ferocity!

To be honest, James was more impressed that anyone was still on their brooms at this rate! The Match was not only an incredibly long one by this time, but the level of intensity had been ferocious and unyielding from the very outset – and it had not decreased by even one notch!

The unusual thing – though perhaps less unusual when one considers the effectiveness of the four Beaters – had been the inactivity of the two Seekers, who were generally considered to be the two best in the entire game. However there had been not even the slightest trace of the Snitch all game.

"No sign of the Snitch yet, neither of the Seekers have even moved yet." Andrew commented – the first time anyone had spoken in over two hours – as he had been following the two Seekers for most of the game, waiting for one of them to make the first move after the Snitch. But so far, neither had done much more than circle the Pitch sweeping their gaze to all sides.

Then, all of a sudden, Andrew leapt up in his seat and pointed "Look! Marino's seen the Snitch!" James spun on the spot, it could not be true, but it was! The Italian Seeker was bearing down on the Snitch, he was only feet away … and Walker was nowhere near him. There was no way that a Seeker as good as Marino was going to surrender that kind of lead, surely England's chances lay dead in the water!

But then, out of nowhere, something impossible happened! In his desperate flight after the Snitch, Marino had forgotten to pay attention to his surroundings, and a Bludger desperately pelted at him by an English Beater slammed into his side, knocking him sideways off his broom.

As Marino fell the remaining ten feet to the ground, Walker zoomed on, closing his fingers around the tiny golden ball and raising it in the air for all to see!

The Pitch exploded in a furor of cheers as the English supporters leapt to their feet and yelled their approval. James and Albus leapt into the air and hugged, "WE WON! WE WON!" they yelled, equating the English Victory to an accomplishment of their own. After all, this wasn't just something that the seven players on the Pitch to celebrate, this was a victory for all of England! Hell, this was a moment of victory for all of the United Kingdom!

Andrew was jumping in the air as well, and he and James high-fived in jubilation. Looking down the row of his cousins James saw Fred, Rose, and Hugo collapse in a many-armed hug, knocking a frantically shouting Louis down on top of them. Victoire and Dominique – who had been fairly excited in their own right – dissolved into laughter at this, and Teddy was whispering something to James' father, who was smirking.

More amusing though were Andrew's siblings, as a very happy looking Julie Knight gave three galleons to an even happier looking Julian. Julie, it would seem, had bet against her own country as much as she had wanted them to win.

As the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports presented the Quidditch World Cup to English Captain Oliver Wood, who hoisted it over his head, the cheers grew even louder, as the half of the crowd backing England renewed their cheers and yells.

"The winner of the Four-Hundred and Twenty-Seventh Quidditch World Cup: ENGLAND!" Roared the magically amplified voice as James, Albus, and Andrew yelled themselves hoarse along with the rest of the English fans.

**Sorry for the long wait guys, after my computer problems were resolved I went right off to college and so my time has been a little limited since then. I will hopefully be able to post chapters with some frequency again, but I am not going to be able to continue the old Monday and Friday schedule that I've been following this summer. I said at the start that it would probably come to an end come September, and indeed it likely will.**

**There most definitely will be an update this Friday, but after that we'll just have to see what happens.**

**Thanks to everyone who has been following me, please REVIEW and remember that you can check the Twitter (TheJamesSPotter) for updates! :)**


	6. Chapter 6: Maps and Mayhem

Chapter Six: Maps and Mayhem

In the aftermath of England's dramatic World Cup Victory, James and Albus had bade the Knight children farewell before heading back to their tent for the night. The Knights would be traveling back to their home that evening, whilst James' family would stay at the campsite for the night before returning by Portkey the next morning.

James' parents had instructed him to get to bed early, as their Portkey was very early the next morning and they could not afford to miss it. However, from the moment that the family returned to the tents, sleep was the very last thing on their minds. The Match had left all of the children more hyperactive than a mountain of sugar, and they were already going over the Match's highlights in graphic detail.

"Did you hear the crunch when Marino ate that Bludger?" Hugo roared enthusiastically, to which the others all nodded and laughed in remembrance. The tent resembled something in between a victory party and a messy bedroom, with things being thrown all over the small sitting room as the boys ran about in excitement and celebration.

James and Albus had lost their voices screaming in the aftermath of England's Victory, and had not spoken very much. However, James had not been able to resist a rousing chorus of "I told you so!" even though the Match had been excruciatingly close. Still, while his voice had abandoned him his ability to make mayhem most certainly had not, and before too long what had once been a well kept sitting room was little more than a disaster area.

The others had been only too willing to join in, and even Teddy who was supposed to be keeping them from tearing the tent to pieces had been unable to help himself. When Teddy had leapt up on the table in the middle of the room and loudly proclaimed that there was no team in the world that could even approach England's in ability and proceeded to topple the wobbly structure on his way down, the boys began to realize that they could do to calm down.

And so the six boys – ironically at Louis' bequest rather than Teddy's – began to calm themselves down and discuss the Match in a more casual matter, though there was certainly a lot of animated gesturing going on. Still, there were no heavy objects sailing through the air, which could be seen as a welcome improvement.

"Such a great game too," Teddy said, having at last calmed himself down long enough to string together a coherent thought at normal volume. "The last World Cup wasn't nearly as good as this one, and that has nothing to do with the fact that England wasn't involved." Teddy, of course, was the only one among them who had been present at the last World Cup – which had taken place four years before. As such, he was the only one present who had any way to compare this one with.

From what he had said though, the other boys had little reason to doubt that this had truly been a spectacular match. Of course, even if Teddy had told them that the last World Cup had been even better than this one, they still would have insisted until their dying day that this had been the best one ever – if only because England had managed to capture the World Cup whilst they were there.

"Bet you that England wins the next World Cup too!" Hugo declared proudly, "And the one after that, and the one after that too!" Of course, Hugo could not possibly have honestly thought this, but in the current atmosphere of excitement it was easy to lose your head.

"Sounds like no other country's ever gonna win the World Cup again Hugh." Fred responded jokingly, shoving his younger cousin older. Hugo didn't seem to like this very much as the two boys were rolling back and forth across the carpet in a mock-wrestling match just moments later.

"Yea, England's just too good!" Hugo said as the smaller boy somehow managed to pin Fred to the ground. "And of course they're only gonna get better once I'm old enough to play for them. Don't worry though Fred, I'll make sure that you get to meet all my teammates."

Before Fred had time to come up with a retort, James ignored the aching in his throat and spoke up. "Damn Fred, you just got _served_!"

* * *

><p>As the night went on, Hugo, Fred, and Louis all trudged off to bed, the younger children unable to keep their eyelids open for any longer. As a result, after only a few hours, only James Albus and Teddy remained in the tent's common area to discuss the exciting Match.<p>

By this time though, just about every topic of conversation had been worn out, and the sugar high-like rush of energy that had been keeping them going all night had more or less entirely evaporated, leaving them with barely enough energy to stay seated upright themselves. Their discussion slowed to a trickle at this point, with no one having enough energy to really show too much enthusiasm anymore.

Some time after the others had gone off to bed, Albus grumbled something about needing to go off to the bathroom before he went to bed, leaving just James and Teddy in the common area. James himself was strongly considering heading off to bed himself before too long, it was becoming difficult to keep his eyes open, and he was beginning to long for the comfort of the bed that awaited him in the next room.

Apparently though, James would not get this chance, as it seemed that this was exactly the moment that Teddy had been waiting for all night. Almost as soon as Albus had left he turned to James and said with a renewed vigor "So, you ready to go to Hogwarts kid?" Too tired and hoarse to speak, James just nodded, wondering where Teddy was going with this. He had spoken of little else over the past month, and indeed he had been pestering Teddy for every little detail about Hogwarts since the older boy had first gone to Hogwarts.

When he paused to think about it, Hogwarts had always been this tantalizing story that he could never quite reach since he had been only four years old. And now, all of these years later, he was finally going to be able to join Teddy there and learn all kinds of magic that he had seen his Godbrother do. Not to mention the fact that the possibilities for pranking at Hogwarts were endless.

In short, it was an absolutely stupid question, of course he was excited to be going to Hogwarts. Indeed he had been told by no fewer than a dozen people in the last week alone that he needed to stop talking about it every five seconds.

Teddy seemed to notice this, as he laughed and said "Yea, stupid question I know. Still, you get my point." James, in fact, did not know what the point of that question was but he just nodded in the hope that information would be forthcoming. Unfortunately, with Teddy Lupin, getting information could be as easy as clearing out an infestation of pixies with a toothbrush.

"Well, I know that you're quite the rulebreaker already James, and my friends and I are kind of one prankster short." Teddy paused, and in that moment James' eyes grew wide with wonder. Could Teddy possibly be saying what James thought he was? Was he – James – really being invited to join in the rulebreaking exploits of _the_ Teddy Lupin! His Godbrother and idol, not to mention one of the most renowned pranksters Hogwarts had ever seen!

"I mean, it would only be from time to time, but we could always use a little guy who can avoid notice by teachers." Teddy continued a moment later, looking down at James with a grin that showed that he knew exactly how much this would mean to James. Perhaps he was only doing this to make James feel better about himself before starting Hogwarts, but even if that was the case this was still the best day of James' life!

"Are you kidding?" James said, his throat burning as he did so, and jumped up to hug Teddy – despite the fact that such an action was decidedly unmanly – and declared loudly "Heck yes! I'd love to!"

Teddy laughed at James' enthusiasm and said "That's great, but of course, you'd have to be willing to get into more trouble than you ever have before. Hogwarts Professors can be really harsh with punishment." Perhaps this was meant as a warning to drive him away, but James merely scoffed and said "Yea, like that's anything but a bonus!"

He could scarcely believe what he was hearing; Teddy Lupin thought that he, James Potter, was cool enough to be included in his posy of rule-breakers! OK, so maybe he was inviting him along more as a temporary member than anything else, but that was a real start as far as James was concerned!

James had always looked at Teddy as the coolest person in the entire world, and the fact that Teddy – who was 17 after all – wanted to hang out with James – who was only 11 – in front of all of his Hogwarts friends meant the world to him. As they sat there talking, James was determined to be the best troublemaker that Hogwarts had ever seen! He was going to be such a great prankster that Teddy's friends would all see how cool he was, and that Teddy was right in inviting him to join the group.

James was eager to discuss tactics and plots with Teddy, but he had a feeling that his Godbrother would not be quite so forthcoming with him until he had proven himself. They were practically family, but this was serious business that could not be jeopardized by foolish mistakes!

But any opportunity for conversation would end a few moments later anyways, as Albus returned to the tent and said "Hey James, mum and dad wants you to come say goodnight." Even if it had not been for the fact that James didn't trust Albus with information so important, it would have resulted in a lot of whining from Albus if he had learned about this – and James didn't want to deal with it so close to his departure.

But of course, there was still the matter of his parents, and so James rolled his eyes at his parent's over protectiveness and got up to go satisfy their insane habits. As he passed his brother he gave him a playful punch on the shoulder and muttered "Little Albykins couldn't go to sleep without his bedtime story?"

Albus was clearly too tired to put up with a drawn out verbal duel, and so he just grunted and told him "They're both in the First Tent." which James took as a surefire sign that he had won this argument without any effort whatsoever.

Pushing the entrance-flap aside, James peeked out of the tent and saw magical fireworks still going off in the distance as some of the older supporters of the English Team were still celebrating the victory. James grinned; it had been a spectacular Match! He was going to have to remember to thank his parents for getting those tickets, which could not have been an easy thing to manage with all of them.

Of course, a family like theirs could do things that other families perhaps could not – such as get enough World Cup tickets for a party this large without much difficulty – but the effort had been made all the same, and when it came to things like Quidditch tickets James took the time to be polite. After all, if his parents thought that it had a good effect on his manners they might get them more often! And while it was no World Cup, James would never say no to tickets to see the Chudley Cannons!

He passed the girls' tent, which was completely silent. Undoubtedly the girls had all long since gone to sleep. Victoire and Dominique were not the biggest fans of Quidditch, and Roxanne was too young to be much of a conversationalist. That would have left just Lily and Rose to discuss the Match, but those two talked so quickly that they had probably discussed every facet of the Match in seven seconds.

James smirked at this thought, wondering whether it would have been more honorable to rescue his sister from the girls' tent and allow her to join in the conversation with the rest of them. While she could certainly be a nuisance at times, she definitely had an eye for spotting things during a Match that even James had missed. It was such a pity that her talent had been wasted in talking with a group of people who mostly didn't care as much as they should have.

Of course, James and Albus would no doubt be sure to go over the match the next day with their younger sister – who would surely be only too glad to share her insights with her two elder brothers. For some reason, no matter how much they pushed her aside, Lily continued to idolize the pair of them in almost the same way that they idolized Teddy Lupin.

As he reached the Second Tent, he heard voices coming from inside and realized that most of the parents were all still awake. This didn't surprise him much, it seemed that adults just didn't seem to get tired in the same way that kids did; though on the other hand they did seem to get worn out during Quidditch games much faster than young kids, for reasons that James had never been able to understand.

He was just about to open the flap and go inside when he heard his name said, something that any good eavesdropper knew was a sign that this was a conversation that you wanted to hear. Pausing with his hand inches away from the door-flap, James leaned closer in intense interest, why had his name been brought up?

His Uncle George had been the one who was talking, to his father he assumed, and the things he was saying were unbelievable to James.

"So getting back to the point Harry, what of it? Are you going to give James the Map or not?" his Uncle George was saying, which certainly did not do much to pique James' interest. He knew that his Uncle George was the authority on all things cool, but he couldn't imagine what use a map would be.

But his Uncle George was apparently very invested in this map, as he continued "It's not doing anything just sitting up in your desk, and I'm certain that James would put it to good use." Suddenly James was once again intensely interested, there was something about the way that his Uncle George said those last words that made James think that his 'Map' was definitely not an ordinary object.

"How exactly does that Map work anyway?" asked a voice he recognized instantly as his mother's, "You never really explained it to me."

Knowing that this was the moment he had been waiting for – albeit for all of thirty seconds – James shifted even closer to the tent flap, scarcely daring to breathe. What could this map do? Did it perhaps plot out various secret passageways that nobody knew about? Or perhaps it was simply a cheap gag trick that he was meant to give to someone else.

There was a silence before his father spoke again. "He's talking about the Marauder's Map. Your brothers gave it to me in my Third Year so that I could sneak into Hogsmeade. It shows all the secret passageways at Hogwarts, and the location of all the students." Pausing for a moment, his father's voice continued "Though they never knew, it was my father and his friends who made the Map. Sirius, Lupin, and Pettigrew helped him."

James could not suppress a gasp at his father's revelations; a Map that showed all the people and secret passageways in Hogwarts! And here James had been wondering just days before how he would possibly be able to find them all by himself! If he had this map with him, then he would already have one step in the ring on the way to becoming a great prankster.

But that was not the most intriguing bit at least as far as James was concerned. A Map made by his two namesakes! James Potter and Sirius Black were, at least according to all the stories that he had been told, even cooler than his Uncle George and Teddy Lupin combined! He knew immediately that this was something that he absolutely _had_ to get his hands on!

Practically shaking with excitement, James pressed his ear closer to the tent flap and continued listening. Closing his eyes in an attempt to contain the emotions that were coursing through him, James made a silent vow. He would find this map, and with it he would make his grandfather – and his other namesake Sirius – proud of him! He had never been able to meet them, but he was always told that he was exactly like them, and so what better way to honor their legacy than to go on a pranking spree with a tool handed down from the legendary duo themselves?

"I'm not giving that to James!" his father said furiously, "Could you imagine what James would do with that thing? Why, he'd never get any work done he'd be so busy trying to find every secret passageway in the whole Castle!"

James could not help but laugh at his father's reaction, it was after all true that he would have chosen to do exactly those things if he could get his hands on it. But still, that was no reason to keep the Map from him! What use was it to his father? Sitting in an old desk gathering dust, it was a crime to do such a thing to such a useful magical object! The mere prospect of what he could do with this Map was making him drool.

Besides, even if he couldn't get his hands on 'the Marauder's Map' as it was called, there was little doubt that James would have spent the vast majority of his time pulling pranks and causing mayhem anyways. All the Map would do was help him a little bit along the way.

"Aw, you say that like it's a bad thing Harry! What's happened to you? The Harry Potter I knew would have been thrilled to think that his son was having such a good time at Hogwarts!" his Uncle George said indignantly.

James thought that this was a very good point, even if he could never have imagined his father being so carefree, but almost immediately his father shot back, "I grew up George, something that you seemingly haven't! I want my son to have a good education, and he's not going to get that if he's too busy running around the Castle with that Map! Maybe when he's older I'll let him have it."

There it was again, 'Be good and get good grades James, and maybe we'll let you have some fun when you're older.' Was that all he was going to hear during his First Year at Hogwarts, the year that he had been looking forward to since he was old enough to have a sentient thought in his head? Would this year of his dreams be just an endless string of things that he was not yet old enough to do and would just have to wait even longer for?

No! He had had quite enough of being told that his time for adventure had not yet come. He had waited long enough, and he was not going to be waiting any longer just because his parents were afraid that he was going to flunk out of Hogwarts or something. He wasn't going to wait until he was older, he was James Sirius Potter! He didn't wait for things to happen, he made them happen! So maybe there was nothing he could do about the broomstick, but if his father wasn't going to give him this Map, then he was just going to have to take it!

He waited until the adults had moved on to a different topic of conversation before entering the tent to bid his parents good-night, that way they would have no reason to suspect that he had overheard. After dealing with his mother's clingy kisses goodnight, James gave quick hugs to all the rest of his Aunts and Uncles before leaving the tent and going back to his own. However, he had done something that had escaped the notice of his parents. When he'd hugged his Uncle George, he'd slipped a small scrap of parchment into his hand and whispered "Wait till my parents aren't around."

Written on that small scrap of parchment was:

_I heard you talking about the Map, and I don't care what my parents say, I'm going to get my hands on that thing if it kills me! Do you know where my dad has it hidden and what it looks like?_

_~James_

After slipping his Uncle George the note, James had gone to bed reasonably assured that he would get his answer soon enough, and that the Map would be in his possession by the time he left for Hogwarts! After all, he had always been great at getting away with things without his parents finding out about it, why should this be any different?

* * *

><p>The next morning, Uncle George made an excuse to go off with James while the others were packing up camp, by suggesting that the pair of them go and find out what time their Portkey would be leaving. The moment that they had left the others behind, James' Uncle George began speaking.<p>

"I'm very proud to see that you've gotten your priorities straight young James." He said, "For some reason your father seems to think that you'd be better off studying and nonsense like that." The pair both shuddered at the thought and Uncle George proceeded to tell James all about the Map.

If James had thought that the map sounded like some sort of artifact handed down from God himself before, that was nothing to what he thought of it by the time his Uncle George was done describing it to him. It could have been nothing more than a used handkerchief covered in decades old snot for all James cared, the mere fact that it had once belonged to his grandfather was enough to make it a highly desirable object in James' mind.

But it was much more than that, in fact it was probably the most useful thing that James had ever heard of in his life, and had it not been for the fact that he had heard the argument the night before he would have believed the whole thing to be an elaborate prank by his Uncle just to get his hopes up.

Then again, he still wasn't ruling that out as a possibility.

"It looks like a bunch of folded sheets of Parchment." He explained to James, "But don't be fooled. You just have to tap it with your wand and say 'I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good' and the Map will appear. Once you're done, just say 'Mischief Managed' and it'll wipe itself blank again."

"OK," James replied, rapt with interest, "But what exactly does it do?" He had heard bits and pieces of its utility the night before, but now he wanted to know exactly what this thing was capable of. If he was going to be hinging all of his plans on this map then he would need to know everything that he could about it.

His Uncle seemed to find this an amusing question, as he grinned at James and tussled his hair responding "A better question my dear nephew would have been 'what _doesn__'__t_ it do?' but let's see, where should I start …"

As they walked Uncle George explained all of the Map's useful features, including one thing that James – in his excitement – had not picked up on the night before. In addition to being able to show the locations of all the secret passageways in the school, it also showed where everyone in the school was at any given time! It could even still detect people wearing invisibility cloaks, though there were just a few limitations.

This was the most interesting detail to James, and when he had demanded to know more, his Uncle had been rather unhelpful.

"It's sorta hard to explain James, but once you get your hands on it you'll see exactly what I mean." he replied when James questioned how such a thing could work. "Of course that's the most useful bit of the Map; you can see where any of the Professors are, or any Sly- students that you aren't particularly fond of."

He winked at James at this, and James smiled back. He and his Uncle George both maintained a fervent hatred of all things related to Slytherin House, and it was little secret that James was going to carry this feeling with him to Hogwarts, and if the Map could help him make life miserable for a few Slytherins, then that was all the better.

He also told James, most importantly of all, where his father had hidden the Map – the one piece of information that James had most desperately been searching for. After all, he could figure out how to work the Map – more or less – on his own if he absolutely had to. But if he did not know where to go looking for the thing in the first place then he was absolutely sunk.

"Your dad said that the Map is somewhere in his study." He told James, thinking long and hard to see if he could remember any other clues as to its location "But other than that he wasn't very specific." James' heart sunk at this, but his Uncle was not done just yet.

"However, from what he said I think it's definitely in one of the drawers of his desk." his Uncle continued, and James nodded with a renewed grin, already formulating a plan which would allow him to get into his father's study without being caught. He would only need a few minutes – once inside – to search through his father's desk thoroughly enough to find the Map.

As they returned to the campsite, James' Uncle George clasped him on the shoulder and said "James Sirius Potter, I think that both of your namesakes would be very proud of you. But more importantly, I'm very proud of you, but the help that I give you I give with three conditions attached to it."

Suddenly James was beginning to feel very apprehensive, as he did not have the slightest idea as to what his Uncle might ask of him. Still, he knew that he could not just walk away from this now, and so with some hesitation James nodded slowly. What exactly could his Uncle want from him, surely it wouldn't be anything too bad.

"Number one," his Uncle began, "your word that you will never become a dried-up and boring rule-follower who thinks that breaking the rules is a terrible thing to do." James began to grin but his Uncle cut him off, "Number two," he continued "that you pass on your knowledge of troublemaking to your siblings and cousins when they go to Hogwarts." James was beginning to laugh by this time, but his Uncle George silenced him once more and concluded "And lastly, and most importantly, that if someday you have children who are going to Hogwarts. You will give the Map to them, rather than hide it like your father."

James finally was unable to stop himself, and laughed at his Uncle. He voiced his agreement immediately, not even needing to think about any of those 'conditions' and the pair returned to the campsite laughing at their cleverness as they reported to the rest of those assembled that their Portkey was scheduled to leave at precisely twelve o' clock, noon.

* * *

><p>The door in Harry Potter's study was slightly ajar, leaving the magical protections set around it useless to prevent an intruder from entering. A small figure – knowing that his chance had come – swept through the doorway and into the study, which was dimly light and musty smelling. The figure – dressed entirely in black – wasted no time, but walked purposefully straight up to the desk that was situated at the far end of the room.<p>

It took him only a matter of seconds of rustling through the drawers before he found what he was looking for. Drawing an intricately folded pad of parchment from the drawer, the figure pointed his wand at the parchment and muttered "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good."

Instantly lines began to spread across the Parchment, spreading out into the shape of a Castle, in which around seven or eight dots wandered around. The front of the Parchment read:

_Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs_

_Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief Makers_

_Are proud to present you with The Marauder's Map_

The figure threw back his hood to reveal a crop of messy brown hair, underneath which a pair of brown eyes sparkled with success and accomplishment. Tucking the Map into the back pocket of his jeans, James Potter strode victoriously from his father's study.

**Yes we're back. New update to Alchemist's Curse is coming soon. Don't forget to Review! :)**


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